Talk to Me
by SSJL
Summary: All he wanted was a moment of honesty from her. All she wanted was to be able to give him this. Some BB lovin' to brighten your day. NOW COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: So after lots of reading and lurking, I have written a fanfic! (blushes). This is the first creative writing that I've done in awhile, and it was kinda fun. Because I don't really have enough time or energy to come up with a plot, and also because I tend to really like the BB M fics, this is mostly just some BB smutfluff with a hint of angst. It does have a bit (ok, a lot) of "the sex" in it, so don't say I didn't warn you! Of course, I own nothing except the story. Let me know what you think!**

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Talk To Me

Temperance Brennan was a woman of many words. She had received a nearly perfect score on her verbal GRE's, and since that time had steadily been building her vocabulary, both with scientific jargon and sophisticated descriptions that made her writing both impressive and compelling. Critics had praised her ability to use words to create believable stories, characters with depth, and atmospheric scenes which made the reader feel as if he were right there, experiencing the mystery first-hand. Temperance was _good _at this. So why was it that, in this moment, she had no words to tell her partner, Seeley Booth, what she was feeling? Even before the words "I'm fine" left her lips, and the look of frustration crossed her partner's face, she knew that her words were not adequate. But somehow, reading into the tangled mess of emotions inside of her, the only that she pulled out was "fine."

"Fine," her partner repeated slowly. "Let me get this straight. Your mother is dead. Your father and brother are both on the run. In the past few weeks, you have been buried alive, stalked by a killer, and had your own ideas used as a template for murder. Now, someone who you allowed to get close to you has sailed off into the sunset, without you. I'm having trouble seeing where the 'fine' fits in, Bones."

"I'm not sure what you want me to say, Booth. I've been ok. Am ok. Am going to be ok. Life goes on. What do you want from me?"

The look of frustration on his face turned to something that looked a lot like anger. "You know what I'd really _love _to have from you, Bones? Honesty. Just one minute of truth in the middle of this crazy, unbelievable life that we live. Just look at me and tell me what you feel, what you need. Tell me what I can do for you. Because when you give me this 'fine' stuff, I come up empty."

"It's not your job to help me through my problems, you know," she murmured, avoiding his intense gaze. Her emotions—whatever they were—were stirring madly inside of her, begging to be made sense of, shared. It was frustrating for her, too; didn't he know that? What did she feel? What did she want?

Sensing that there might be something under her surface, just beneath their reach, Booth took her face in his hands, forcing her to look into his eyes. The contact startled her, as did the storm she saw brewing behind his eyes. "Temperance," he pleaded. "Talk to me."

Frustrated, desperate now, Brennan reached inside of herself, trying to find something, anything, true and real to tell him. His touch seemed to be burning her skin, his eyes piercing her soul. What could she say? She found something, grasped hold of it, but was still a little surprised when the words came out.

"I want you to kiss me."

Time stood still for a moment while her words sunk in. Dumbfounded, Booth's hands dropped to his sides, his brows furrowed, not quite understanding. "What?"

She sighed, her eyes closed for a moment. When she opened them again and met his gaze, it was with a new confidence. "You asked me to be honest with you. You asked me to talk to you. This is what I've got. I'll talk to you all night—tell you what I want. Just don't ask for more than that right now."

Booth let out the breath he was holding. He searched her face—she looked bold, sure of herself, to any observer. Behind that, though, was a vulnerability that both touched and pained him. He wasn't deluding himself that she was weak or fragile; she was the toughest woman he knew. However, she looked so pretty and young at the moment—a lost soul begging for a connection in the only way she knew how. He pondered this dilemma. He'd be lying if he said he never thought about it before—pulling his gorgeous partner into his arms, touching her, making the infuriatingly scientific discourse she was so fond of die on her lips as he swallowed it with his own mouth. But he also wanted to take care of her. When he came to her today, he really, truly wanted her to express her feeling, pour her heart out. Now, her heart was not the part of her body that she was offering to him.

"Booth, please." Whispered. Pleading. She was offering him the most honest thing she could conceive of right now.

In that moment, they both knew it. This was the time to be as real as they could be. That was all there was.

His hands went into her silky hair, his face was inches from hers. The sudden closeness flooded her belly with warm, hot desire. 'Oh God,' she thought, 'What have I done?'

"Ok," he whispered. "But you've gotta keep talking to me. Promise." Lips closer.

She would have promised him anything at that moment. "Yes. Kiss me."

At the moment of contact, there were colors. Stars. Electricity. Something intangible that set their bodies humming and turned their brains into a single-minded organism, interested only in getting as close to the other as they could get. And the kiss was barely there—the slightest touch of lips. A brushstroke against their mouths, and everything was fire.

He pulled away, painfully. "Yes?"

She gasped. "More. Please." Her mouth was searching, seeking that electric feeling again.

"How?"

A light flashed for her; she knew what he needed from her. "More. Harder. Wetter. Let me feel your mouth, your tongue. Let me know you want me."

Groaning, he complied. He kissed her hard until there was no breath left in them. His tongue found hers, tasting, nibbling, sucking her own lips and tongue and making them tingle. In the back of his mind, hazed over with desire was the thought that nothing, ever, had been as hot as this—having his mouth on this incredible woman, who he had wanted for so long, knowing that it was exactly what she wanted.

She felt frenzied, out of control, yet she knew that control was hers; he would do most anything she said. Between kisses, she said "Take me to the bedroom," and they made their way there, lips rarely parting. She listened to her body and told him what it needed. "Kiss me everywhere," she said laying down and drawing his mouth to her throat. "Aaaaah, yes….right there." He responded with a growl, nuzzling her neck, licking and gently biting at her earlobes. He was having difficulty restraining himself—everything inside of him was telling him to rip her clothes off and lose himself in the hot sweetness of her. But this wasn't about him. She would guide him to where they needed to go.

And she did. She asked him, with a wavering voice, to undress her, and he did reverently, smoothing his hands and trailing his lips over the newly exposed skin. She tossed her head restlessly, biting her lips, trying to decide whether to give into her baser instincts and tell him to go faster, to dispense with the foreplay and to take her already, make her come. Something else held her back from this. She wanted to make this last as long as it could. She wasn't sure if this was because it felt so good and right, or if she was afraid that the faster it was over, the sooner she was going to have to think about it. Perhaps, it was a bit of both.

When she was divested of all but her underclothes, and none of her exposed skin was left untasted, she stilled the head of one very flushed Seeley Booth with her hands. "Now you. I want to see you."

He was not a man who was ashamed of his body. But for a moment, he flushed a shade even deeper than his desire. Temperance Brennan was a very driven, passionate woman, and right now he felt her studying him so intently that he almost believed, ludicrously, that with every piece of clothing he removed, she could see more deeply into his thoughts, his soul. Pushing these thoughts away, he honored her request. He pulled off his shirt and was pleased to hear her sudden, sharp intake of breath. She liked what she saw, and he silently thanked God for every push-up and sit-up that he had ever done, that made his body an object of her desire. He removed his pants as well, leaving only his boxers, and climbed back over to her.

She reached out to him. "I want to touch you."

For the first time that night, he did not obey her request. He caught her hand and clasped in between his own. "No." Seeing her confused, somewhat hurt expression, he quickly added "Just….not right now. I really need for this to be about you right now. Please, let me do this for you."

Not really understanding but deciding to trust him, she slowly nodded, relaxing and lying back down. "Well," she said huskily, "If I can't touch you, you better damned well get back to touching me. I don't even know why I'm still wearing this," gesturing to her bra.

Smiling, Booth replied "Because you hadn't asked me to take it off yet."

"I am now."

His smile faded. "Yes." He kneeled over her, his fingers trembling slightly as they reached for the clasp at the front of her chest. When the garment unsnapped, it clung for a moment on the fullness of her breasts, until he gently pushed it away. He stared for a moment, not moving.

Anticipating his touch, Brennan began to stir impatiently when she didn't feel it. "Booth. Look later. Touch now."

Shaking away his paralyzing awe, Seeley reached out and gently stroked the swell of her breasts with his fingertips. He repeated the motion on the underside of her breasts, tickling her. He nipples turned pebble-hard, begging with their own words to be touched. His fingers drew enticing circles that grew ever closer to the taut nubs that were beckoning him. By the time he reached them, stroking with his thumbs and then lightly pinching and rolling them between his fingers, Temperance was gasping and bucking her hips off the bed. Every gentle squeeze seemed to send a tiny electric shockwave to her clit. After several minutes of his exquisitely tortuous ministrations, she had no doubt where she needed him next.

"Seeley," she whispered. He looked at her face, surprised. He had been fascinated with her body, and its responses to his touch, but the unexpected use of his first name jolted him out of his reverie. Somehow, her saying his given name was one of the most intimate things that had happened thus far this night. He looked at her questioningly.

"What can I do for you?"

"You know what I want."

"Tell me."

She sighed. Her body felt so hot, and her arousal had dulled whatever sense of modestly she had up until this moment. She looked him straight in the eye.

"I want you to fuck me with your tongue."

At that moment he almost came in his boxers. Temperance Brennan, his articulate queen of science, just said the words that had manifested, in some variation, most every night in his fantasies and dreams. He swallowed thickly. How could any woman have this much effect over him?

He gently pulled down her panties. She was beautiful, wet and glistening. He wanted to make her feel better than she had ever felt. "Tell me what you like."

Yes. She had promised to talk to him. "First—really lightly. With the tip of your tongue." She gasped at the first contact. His tongue, butterfly-soft, swept across her clit. Occasionally he would flutter his tongue ever so quickly against her, making her whimper. His touch was so delicate, but to her over-sensitized body it was the most frustrated pleasure she had ever felt.

"Yes. Touch me while you do that." He continued teasing her with his mouth, using his fingers to tickle the insides of her thighs, her hips, reaching up to stroke her sensitive nipples and pull on them. She moaned, thrashing her head from side to side. "Harder. I need more."

He increased the pressure of his tongue-strokes, licking in earnest now, turned on ridiculously by her taste and the little noises she was making. His pace became frantic, matching her own rhythmic thrusts. Her ankles wrapped around his shoulders, her fingers grasped at the headboard, holding on for dear life. Just one more thing….

"Your fingers….inside….please."

Yeeeees. Anything. Two of his large fingers of his left hand slid into her soaking wet center, easily. With his other hand he continued to stroke the rest of her body. His tongue never stilled. She was practically crying, reeling from the triple-pronged sensations. She felt the pleasure build to a fever pitch, rolling over her but not quite breaking---yet.

When he began to move his fingers, gently stroking the upper wall of her opening with a sweeping motion, she lost it. With a keening cry, her body stiffened, pressed hard against his mouth and fingers, and she shook as the sweet hot throbbing took over her body. Booth stayed on for the ride, refusing to abandon her until the last shudder went through her. Even once her orgasm subsided for the most part, occasionally deep throbs coursed through her body, encouraged by his slowing licks and finger movements. By the time this ended, she felt as completely spent as she had ever felt in her life.

Eventually, after lying this way for several minutes, Seeley removed his fingers from her and reached up to collapsed beside her, eyes closed. Mentally, he scolded his lingering erection, reminding himself that this was about her, about what she needed and was able to ask for right now. As their breathing slowed, thoughts about what had just transpired between them swam through their heads.

Eventually, as he opened his eyes, he found her staring at him, again with that see-through-you look. "Booth…"

"Shh, it's ok. You did good. You don't have to talk right now." Afraid that if she did begin to talk, it would be to rationalize what happened, put up a wall, and suck all the vulnerable honesty out of this moment.

"No" she said more firmly. "I just want to tell you….I….I…I don't have the words right now." Slowly, contemplatively. "But I hope to. Sometime."

He smiled at her sincerity. "Alright, that's good. You can talk to me—when you are ready." He pushed a sweet, chaste kiss on her damp brow.

"Yes," she murmured. "When we are ready." With that, both drifted into a sleep, filled with strange dreams that neither of them would know how to put into words.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I'm baaa—acck. Sorry for the long delay in posting…I've had this pesky dissertation to worry about. I know, where are my priorities? Sheesh. Good news, since it's the summer, I have a leeeetle more time on my hands. So, I humbly present to you…chapter 2. If B/B M stuff is your thing, then please, read and review!**

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She sat in the diner, anxiously staring at her hands as she twisted her napkin. She had already been twice startled by the server, who wondered if she was yet ready to order. No, not yet, she had come early, and was waiting. For what? Well, that had yet to be seen.

The flimsy napkin, weakened by 20 minutes of abuse, ripped apart. She grimaced, and put it down. She didn't like this….she was not accustomed to being nervous. That's why she had invited her partner here today: to "Talk About It." The It, of course, being the highly erotic events that had transpired the weekend before, as he begged her to be honest with him and she responded with the only truth she could muster—that she wanted him, right then, to kiss her and make her forget about all the hurtful things that had happened to her over the past several years of her life. He complied, and was quite successful, really. But, her temporary pleasure-driven amnesia had necessarily come to an end, leading her to worry and wonder about whether or not her momentary moment of weakness (strength?) would negatively affect their partnership. Never one to mince words, Temperance Brennan had decided that the best way to handle this was to nip things in the bud and talk about it, before they had a case and were forced to deal with it, prepared or not. So, here she was. Waiting.

The chair across from hers slid out, and her partner sat down, startling her out of her reverie. He favored her with a smile. "Hey Bones." He looked down at the table. "Wow. What did that napkin ever do to you?"

She smiled back, appreciating for once his attempt to lighten the mood. "It touched me without my permission. You know how I hate that."

"I know." Their eyes met, and their smiles slowly faded. Seconds ticked by as they both struggled mentally with who should talk first.

"Booth…"

"Are you ready to order?" They both looked up at the server, on his third round to the table. He was looking back expectantly.

Now that Booth was here, she realized that she hadn't been waiting for him to eat; she truly was not a bit hungry. "Actually, I'm good. Thanks."

"Just a cup of coffee for me" Booth added. The server gave them a smirk that could have been a smile, or a look of disgust, before he left to get Booth's coffee. Booth turned his attention back to his partner.

"So what's up, Bones? Something tells me you didn't invite me here today to watch me get my caffeine fix."

"True," she said. She sighed…she really should have planned how to start this conversation before he got here. Her loquaciousness of the previous night, when she was writhing on the bed beneath his skilled hands and mouth, had somehow, magically disappeared. She decided to go with honesty, which had worked for her before.

"I feel weird," she said, wrinkling her nose. "I don't like that."

"Yeah, I was worried that you'd feel that way."

"And you don't?, she asked, surprised.

"Well….only when you call me out to mysterious lunch meetings that don't involve any food." A smile. "So is there anything I can do to change that? Your feeling weird, that is."

"No!" she exclaimed. He raised his eyebrow, a bit alarmed at her forcefulness.

She took a deep breath. "What I mean is….you aren't in charge of my feelings, Booth. I appreciate your concern—you are a good friend—but when I'm feeling hurt, or sad, or weird, it's not your job to deal with those feelings. That's probably what feels so strange right now. The other night, I let you take responsibility for me…making me feel better. I forgot about the logical thing, maybe the _right _thing. I just gave my feelings to you to take care of, and that wasn't fair to you.

"Take _responsibility _for you?" Geez, this woman knew how to suck the romance right out of a situation. 'Think, Booth,' he told himself. 'This is Bones were talking about.' Then, out loud: "Okay, I think I get it. You feel vulnerable, like you gave up control. You feel like you gave me some kind of burden to deal with."

She averted her eyes. "Maybe. Sort of. I don't know. All I know is that we have always been equal in this partnership…it has always been give and take, and that's what made us such a great team. And right now, it feels like I took something from you, and didn't give back. It feels unbalanced."

He reached over and, with his finger under her chin, forced her to meet his eyes. "Let's get something straight. We _are _a great team, and nothing is going to change that. I get it that you aren't used to being open with people, and vulnerable, but I was _not _doing you some kind of favor, and I resent the implication that I would. I wanted honesty, you gave it to me. You asked for something we _both _wanted. It was give and take, all the way, always has been. So don't you dare for a second feel sorry for me, or bad about your own part in what we did together. I am your friend, and I help you. You are my friend, and you help me. It was exactly as it should be."

Their eyes were locked for what seemed like an eternity. Her eyes flickered to the side, and she saw that most of the nearby diners were looking at them curiously. Booth followed her gaze, and saw the stares. He reluctantly pulled his hand away from her face and lowered his voice.

"Besides," he said, leaning towards her and whispering conspiratorially, "I kind of liked it."

She looked at his face and his slowly spreading smile. Suddenly, she felt a little ridiculous for herself, the one who was so good about keeping sex and relationships separated, to be making a big deal out of this. She chuckled, and he joined her.

"So did I. Um….obviously." She gave him a slightly embarrassed smile, and that exacerbated their laughter.

When their laughter died down, she again looked at him seriously. "So…where do we go from here?"

"Well…that's a good question. I'm not sure I have the answer."

"I'm not sure I can forget about it" she said softly.

"Me neither." He reached across the table and covered her hand. "How about this…how about we work on cases and solve them. How about we bicker in the car about who gets to drive and who gets to carry the gun. How about we go out for drinks after we catch killers and eat Thai food at ungodly hours of the night. How about we do all that, and just see what happens…knowing that if anything changes, it will be because we are closer and more honest with each other. That it would be a good change."

She contemplated this for a moment, and then slowly nodded her head. "That sounds okay. But, just so you know, it's really hard for me not to have a plan."

"I know that," he said reassuringly. "I didn't say it would be easy." They sat for a minute, taking all this in. Anxious to relieve the tension, Booth spoke.

"Of course, if it makes you feel better, you can always take me back to your place and have your way with me. Then maybe you'll feel like things are even." He smiled broadly.

She stared at him silently, unsmiling, and for a few seconds he was sure that he said the wrong thing. An apology was almost on his lips when she spoke. "Actually, that might make me feel better." His eyes bulged slightly. Was she kidding? She had to be kidding.

She did not appear to be kidding. She was regarding him quite seriously. "It makes sense…give and take. Always equal. Maybe it would help."

He opened his mouth to say—what could he say?—but she beat him to the punch. "Can I think about it and get back to you?"

He shut his mouth and closed his eyes. It made no sense to question her reasoning, her literal interpretations of his teasing words. He would do anything for her; that much had already been determined. As she would do for him.

He opened his eyes and smiled at her. "Sure. Think about it. Later, we'll talk."

She gave him a grateful look and then turned and asked for the check. As he followed her out the door, all he could think was what a strange, wonderful ride their partnership had been thus far. Although that ride had been dizzying and disorienting, it was always thrilling and left him wanting more. And now, he got ready to go for another spin.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: You know, I always read other authors' comments about how reviews made their days and nearly made them pee themselves with joy and whatnot, and I had thought they were exaggerating. Well, now I know better. I am eternally grateful to those who review. Please, continue to let me know what you like, and what you'd like to see.**

**I know I promised a spicier 3****rd**** chapter, but I wanted a little more exposition and it got a little long, so I decided to make it it's own chapter. I know…to quote from my own chapter, could we skip the foreplay here and get to the main event? But it is all for the sake of making things a little more real. I will post again soon.**

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Agent Booth was in his office, working diligently on documentation for their last case. Paperwork was typically the bane of his existence, and he usually _hated _working late on Fridays (6:02 pm, at his last glance at the clock), but lately, the drudgery sometimes felt like an ironic relief. When he was alone at his desk, concentrating on the mundane details of his work, he at least didn't have time to obsess over more…personal matters. And lately, thoughts of personal matters plagued him almost every time he tried to give his brain a rest.

His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he grabbed at it, slightly annoyed. He was hoping to get his work done without interruption. Interruptions put him off-track. A glance at the caller ID told him that it was his partner calling. "Hey Bones. What's up?"

"Booth." He could have sworn he heard splashing in the background. "Are you busy?"

"Mmm, about half." There it was, the splashing sound again. "Where are you? You sound like you are underwater."

"I'm at home. You're still at work? That's a switch."

"Yeah, well…can't depend on the paperwork fairy to come in during the weekend. She's the most unreliable woman I know."

"Are you going to be finished soon? I was hoping you could come over so we finish the discussion we had earlier.

Booth groaned. "Aww, Bones. I really don't want to rehash that. I'm not gonna stop seriously looking at our initial suspect until science rules him out as the killer, no matter how much I'm convinced that he is not. You were right, I was wrong. Can't we just leave it at that?

"No, Booth. Not what we were discussing earlier today. What we talked about earlier this week. You know, at lunch on Monday."

Oh. "Oh," he said, his mouth suddenly dry. Well, _that _had pretty efficiently derailed his initial train of thought.

"Booth? You still there?"

His following pause must have been longer that he thought. "Uh, yeah I'm here. Um, sure, Bones."

"If you don't already have plans," she said, a little too hurriedly.

"No, I don't. That would be fine. Maybe…around 8?"

"Yes. 8 would be fine. I'll be here."

"Ok—I'll see you then."

He hung up the phone and looked at the clock. 6: 29. He buried his head in his hands. Fabulous—the next hour and a half were going to be useless.

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Brennan clicked off her phone and tossed in on the floor beside her bathtub. She sighed and sunk deeper into the water, trying to allow the delicious heat and the perfumed air to relax her body and to clear her mind. It was futile, of course—she hadn't been able to fully relax for several days, which is why she made the call in the first place. It wasn't as if things were bad between them; they still did their job well and were friendly with each other. Despite this, she felt a tension hanging in the air between them that she did not feel would be resolved unless she did something about it.

That tension grated on her nerves enough to translate into the discussion/argument at the lab earlier. After interviewing their suspect, Booth felt confident that the man didn't do the crime, and he was anxious to turn his attention to other possibilities, even before a complete analysis of the remains had been done. Their bickering had gone unchecked until Angela, growing impatient, interrupted them: "Um, guys? I sort of have other things to do, soooo…could we skip the foreplay here and move on to the main event?"

They had (somewhat guiltily) got back to the task at hand then, but Brennan couldn't shake the feeling of _offness _she had, even after Booth's comforting words on Monday. Yes, something needed to be done about it. So she had made the call, and now she had an hour and a half to figure out how to proceed.

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When Booth knocked on the door, it was approximately 7:30. He had tried to wait until 8—he _really _had—but his thoughts were such a maddening cacophony in his head that he finally gave up and left early, anxious to face the inevitable, whatever that happened to be. There was a short pause that felt like an eternity until she opened the door. "Booth—hi."

His sharply honed skills of observation immediately took over and tried to size up the situation. Short, silky robe, skimming her body and ending midthigh. Very sexy. Hair slightly damp, and hanging around her shoulders (she _was _in the water!), barefoot, and no makeup. Also very sexy, although doubtfully intended to be this way. A solemn look on her face—that one was a little more ambiguous. Yup. He had no idea what was going on.

She was seemingly unaware of his busy thoughts. "Please, come in. Have a seat." She padded towards the kitchen as he sat down. "Do you want a glass of wine? I just opened a petit syrah. It's excellent."

"Sure." He did not have her knowledge of wine, but whatever happened tonight he figured he would probably need alcohol for.

"Great." She re-entered the room with two glasses of the deep purple vintage. He took his glass almost hesitantly. "Try it. I can almost promise that you're going to like this."

She watched him intently as he took his first sip. Interesting—_he _was the nervous one this time, while she was (outwardly, at least) calm.

The dry, fruity wine was rich and decadent. "You're right. It's perfect." He had to will himself to meet her gaze. "You have good taste." His mind continued its maddening search for answers. The wine and her attire (or lack of it) suggested seduction. However, the seriousness of her face and her tone implied nothing but business. He might leave her apartment later having had the most explosive sex of his life. He might also leave with a giant kiss-off, being forced to promise to never touch her again and never talk about the night that she had come against his mouth. The inevitable. It was one of the two.

She decided to cut to the chase. "Listen, Booth. I've been thinking a lot about what we talked about at the diner on Monday. Maybe you've been thinking about it too."

Nooooo. Him, think about _that_? Hadn't crossed his mind.

"I want you to know that I really appreciated all you said—about us being equal, and about me not owing you anything. It meant a lot to me, knowing that you feel about our…friendship…the way that I do."

"I meant every word of that, Bones," he said seriously.

"I know. Thank you." She smiled briefly, before her business-Bones face was back in place. "It really made me think…about how much you have given me. I know, you feel as if I have given you something, too, and I'm glad—but really, it wasn't intentional. I'm not really good at friendships, that way. So…I'd like to be able to give you something back, on purpose—like you suggested. Like you did for me."

He began to say something, but she interrupted. "And before you ask…it's not because I feel obligated. It's because I want to."

He was feeling that dizzy, disoriented feeling again—like there was too much blood rushing through his head, among other parts. "Let me just make sure I'm getting you straight. You want to…" 

"Yes. To give you pleasure. To make you come. Then, we will be full circle—then I will feel, too, like all is as it should be. Like you said." He stared at her, agog. "Don't look at me like that. It shouldn't surprise you—it was your idea."

He wondered if there would ever be a worse time to tell her that he had been joking, and then decided against it. He clasped her face between his hands. "Temperance. I want you to be one hundred percent real with me, right now. Is this something you want—for us? Not just me, or just you. I don't want you to regret anything about us. Ever."

She returned his gesture, taking his face in her hands. "_Yes. _It will make me happy. Let me do this for you.

He searched her eyes and saw only honesty there. A look at his face showed her his quiet shift to acceptance. She smiled and took his hand.

"Come on," she whispered, leading him towards her bedroom. He followed.

Another ride had begun.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Did everyone see the interview with ED and DB on the "Watch With Kristen" segment of E!online? The caption is all like, "the actors talk about their sizzling on-screen romance." I wish!!! Geez they are so hot. So until Hart Hanson gets his priorities straight, I will write about what 95 percent of the fans want to happen. If it were allowed. Other than on Skinemax.**

**I like this chapter. It makes me happy. Hopefully, it will make you happy too:-)**

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Her bedroom looked like her, smelled like her, he thought, taking in the surroundings. Their first encounter had been at his own apartment; even though the situation had been unfamiliar, he had been emboldened by the familiar surroundings. It had been _his _territory. Here, in her own room, things felt different, fresh: just a little disconcerting.

"Over here," she beckoned to him. She had opened her closet. He walked over and looked inside, and a mild feeling of amusement went through him. Her closet was almost as big as his bedroom, and still there was not much room to spare inside. He had no idea what he was supposed to be looking at, so he eyed her questioningly.

She directed his gaze towards one small section that may have gone unnoticed among the rest of her extensive wardrobe. "Here." She did not own a great deal of lingerie; it wasn't particularly practical in her line of work, and would largely go wasted underneath her standard lab coat. However, when she indulged, she did so in the good stuff. "What do you like?"

He was overwhelmed for a moment by his own imagination—for every garment he saw, a different scenario played through his mind. Having sweet, gentle sex with her in her silky ivory teddy. Pounding her from behind while her breasts strove to bounce free from her tight black corset. Watching her aquamarine eyes looking seductively up at him in her babydoll nightgown of the same color, as she went down on him up against the wall. Too many possibilities…

"Well?" she asked, smiling slightly. "I didn't mean to confuse you…"

He shook off his fantasies and looked hard at her, contemplating. This could very likely be the last time he would get to kiss her, feel her touching him. She had said that after this night, she would feel that things were full circle, balanced. That did not imply that their round-trip would be repeated, and he understood that possibility. _If _this were to be the last time that he would get to be intimate with her—what _did _he want?

Taking her hand, he pulled gently. "Come here." With a perplexed glance back at her closet, she gave in and followed him. He sat on the edge of the bed and placed his hands on her hips, with her standing, facing him. He gazed up her body to her eyes, and then pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her middle and resting his cheek against the silkiness of the robe against her belly. "You," he said softly. "I just want you. Please." No costuming needed.

She was touched by this, the simplicity of his request, if not a little confused. His tenderness at that moment was not what she expected—she had expected, and planned for, raw sexuality. A wave of emotions caught her off-guard, and her legs felt a little weak. She sank to the floor between his knees and returned his embrace, her head pressed tightly against his chest while he rested his own chin on top of it. Everything stood still for a moment—all there was their bodies pressed together, his hand stroking her hair, and the strong, steady pumping of his heart. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply as the seconds ticked by.

It was all too intimate, too close. If she allowed this to continue for much longer, it would no longer be about him. It would be about her filling up that part of her that longed for a profound connection that transcended sex. If it became about that, she would leave again feeling selfish, unequal. No, no, no. That could not happen…not tonight.

It took a Herculean effort to pull away, but she did, immediately feeling bereft of the warmth that had been encompassing her. "Turn around," she said, more sharply than she intended. She softened her tone. "Please." She did not mean to be bossy tonight.

He turned around on the bed, stretching his legs out in front of him. There: this was _much _easier with him facing away. A little disappointed but _very _relieved at the same time, she climbed on the bed behind him and began her work.

She reached around his chest, his back flush against her breasts, and she rest her chin on his shoulder with her lips close to his ear. As she began to unbutton his shirt at a maddeningly slow pace, she talked to him.

"You're a good-looking man, Booth." One button. "You look good in your clothes. But you always wonder, if someone looks _that _good in their clothes, that put together, what must be underneath? Could it possibly live up to the expectation?" Another button. "When I asked to see you the last time, I was very glad that you let me. You must work _very _hard on your body, Booth. I was very impressed." The next button. "In nature, when a creature sees a potential mate that is perfectly structured, it recognizes right away the likelihood of its reproductive prowess, and its body can't help but respond. The drive is to reproduce, but the immediate urge is all about sex." The next. "That's how my body responded when I saw you that night. Your chest…your arms…your face. Everything about you told my body to be ready for sex. Do you remember how wet I was by the time you touched me?" The next. "You didn't let me touch you that night, not like I wanted to. But I'm going to tonight. My mouth is going to be all over you."

By the time she finished with her task and her narrative, Booth was pretty sure that if she said one more word, he would be finished. No need to touch me, Bones, I am all taken care of. Yup, just the sound of your voice made me come. Your fault, really—I can't help it that you are the sexiest woman alive.

Luckily, once his shirt was unbuttoned and she eased it over his shoulders, she found another use for her mouth and hands. Her palms ran smoothly over the broad expanse of his back, feeling and kneading each muscle. Everywhere her hands went, her lips followed, making him shiver as the warmth of her touches was replaced by the coolness of the air hitting the moist spots that her lips left. He nearly jumped out of his skin when she ran her tongue up the length of his spine, sending shock waves through his body. Her mouth then went to work on the back of his neck, showering feather-light kisses there while her arms reached around him and began to give his chest the same treatment as she had his back. His breathing, already erratic, began to hitch as she dragged her palms over the rock-hard nubs of his nipples and then gently tweaked them, drawing sensations out of his body that he hadn't known existed in this world. His cock was harder than he ever remembered it being, and was protesting loudly about being kept in the confines of his pants.

"Temperance," he said through gritted teeth, "You're killing me here, you know that? Literally killing me."

She smiled against his neck. She was feeling much more confident and in control of herself now, now that she had proved to herself that she could have the same effect on his body as he had on hers. Yes, this was going nicely. If she could ignore the throbbing of her own sex and continue concentrating on the task at hand (so to speak), she was easily going to be able to return the gift he had given her, with an extraordinary sexual experience.

"I very much believe that you are going to live, Seeley. Murder is not on my agenda tonight."

"You could have fooled me."

Her hands found their way down to his belt buckle, and she deftly undid both it and his zipper. "You can lie down now, if you'd like. I'm done back here…for now."

Gratefully, he maneuvered his body around and eased back on the bed, his head propped on the pillows. She looked at him, his nearly flawless body hers for the taking, his chest rising and falling in time with his rapid breaths. He looked back at her with a smile, and she felt another unexpected pang of feeling, desire mixed with…something else. He looked way too damned good. This _felt _way too damned good.

She straddled him, trapping his still-confined cock in between her sex and his own body, allowing them both to briefly enjoy the pressure where they wanted it the most. She rocked forward carefully and planted her hands on the bed to either side of his head. "You okay?"

He let out a small, almost painful laugh. "Never better, Bones. Despite the whole you almost killing me thing. You?"

"Yes, I think I am." She looked at him thoughtfully. "I'm think I'm going to kiss you now. Ok?"

"Please do."

She leaned down, her hair falling like a curtain around their faces. She paused right before their lips touched, almost as if she was going to say something. Her eyes met his one more time before they finally closed and she pressed her mouth against his.

He was grateful for the kiss; its sweetness distracted him from the nearly impossible level of arousal he was experiencing between his legs. He focused all his mental energy on the smell of her hair, the softness of her lips, and the taste of her mouth (she tasted like wine, and chocolate, and something else that he was beginning to learn was uniquely, sweetly Temperance Brennan). He became lost in that kiss, glad to finally be able to participate actively in his own pleasuring.

The kiss lasted longer than she intended; dangerously long, really. It was really masochistic to tempt herself like this, she thought. It would be so easy for such as kiss to melt into mutual touching and feeling, which would melt again into an intense joining of bodies. Booth was far too much of a gentleman to focus then on his own pleasure, and the whole goal of this night would be forgotten. Focus, Temperance.

She broke the kiss, thinking of this, and she rocked back to her original position.

"Do I get to see you now?" he asked.

Brennan looked down at herself, surprised. She had almost forgotten that she was still wearing her robe. "Oh. If that's what you want."

"I _want_." He said it with an almost predatory forcefulness that made her a little embarrassed to expose herself. The moment of discomfort passed; she slowly untied the sash around her waist and shrugged out of the flimsy material. His eyes turned the obsidian color which she was beginning to recognize as a symptom of the later stages of his desire. She began to squirm under his intense scrutiny, and her eyes widened as she saw his hands coming towards her, itching to stroke her. With lightening reflexes she grabbed his wrists and pushed his arms over his head, holding them in place.

"You know better" she scolded.

"Temperance…if I don't touch you…concentrate on you for awhile…I'm not going to be able to control myself." He sighed. "Sad, but true."

Still holding his wrists in place with one hand, she leaned over him and looked him straight in the eye. "I don't _want _you to control yourself." She met him for another briefer, yet searing kiss. He could feel her hard nipples pressing against his chest, and he groaned into her mouth. This was the sweetest torture he could ever imagine.

"Now," she said, "can I let you go, or do I have to tie you up?"

That was a fantasy for another day. "I'll be good. Promise."

"So will I." With that, she went back to the business of thoroughly kissing and licking his throat down to his chest. Every so often, she would subtly rock her hips against him, intensifying the sensations. He bit his lips; he would not beg.

When she moved off of him, he missed the weight of her. "Lift up" she said. He was surprised by the suddenness of her request, then remembered that she had unbuckled him during their earlier activities. She pulled down his pants over his strong legs, kissing these as they were uncovered as well. She took his boxers with them, which also surprised him for a moment; she seemed so intent on torturing him with her ministrations that he was sure she'd take her time getting his underwear off, too.

She smoothed her hands up his thighs, and then stopped, taking him in. This was the first time he had ever been completely exposed to her, which she had been waiting for, since he had seen her at her most vulnerable. Turnabout was fair play. A slow smile spread across her face.

"Um, Bones? This isn't the time for silence. This is the part where you tell me I'm the most magnificent thing you've ever seen."

She had a mischievous look in her eye as she regarded him. "Sometimes, Booth, silence speaks louder than words." With that, she lowered her head.

Oh, she wasn't finished torturing him yet. Before her mouth touched him where he wanted it the most, she used her fingers and lips to tickle his inner thighs, his balls. She teased him with her hot breath on his engorged penis, making him moan and mutter under his breath. He was almost ready to abandon his rule about not begging when he felt her tongue delicately run up the underside of his shaft. For a moment she hovered above him, not touching, not even breathing. And then she moaned—she _moaned_, as if _she _were the one who was so anxiously anticipating this moment—and she slid her silky lips over the head of his cock.

He let out what might have been a groan or a whimper, and then began a litany of yes's---yes, yes, yes, yes, yes—in time with the steady movements of her mouth and tongue. Her lips swirled wetly around his corona, while her tongue lapped at the notch where it met his shaft. Every so often, she would up the sensation. First, she used her right hand to gently tickle and roll his balls. Then, she used her little finger of the same hand to lightly stroke the sensitive spot behind his balls. Then, she used her other hand to begin smoothly, slowly pumping his shaft while her mouth worked on the tip. When she would sense that he was getting too close, and she slowed or stopped her movements. When she felt the inevitability of orgasm subside, she picked up where she had last left off.

Fuck not begging. "Temperance…." She looked up at him, and she was the sexiest thing that he had ever seen, or would see, ever again. "I need you. _I need you. Please."_

Yes. It was time. She looked down, kissed the tip of him with an exceptional tenderness. Then…she began ministering to him with a fervor that he had never experienced before. She was worshipping him, it seemed. There was no holding back for either of them now...there was only one place to go.

Everything appeared to stop. His body stiffened, all his nerve endings like a chain of fireworks that had just been lit. They suspended in midair…then exploded with the force of a 4th of July grand finale. He screamed something that might have been her name, then let go what felt like his entire life force exploding out his body through his groin. It went on for what seemed like forever, although it couldn't have possibly been for more than a minute. Every time he thought it was subsiding, he took in a breath and could smell her—feel her—and another spasm coming from somewhere deep within would cause him to shudder and groan. Later, when he tried to think of words to sum up this experience, he wouldn't be able to find them.

He laid panting in his aftershocks, his eyes squeezed shut tightly. When he tried to open them, all there was for several minutes was darkness and little starbursts of light that floated across his field of vision. He wondered if anybody had ever gone blind from orgasming too hard.

For her part, Temperance was amazed by the spectacle that she had just witnessed. Possibly the hottest thing she had ever seen was her partner trembling and crying out uncontrollably, because of her… _her. _Her eyes stayed upturned, watching him, until he appeared to be finished. She let him fall from her mouth and sat up, watching him wide-eyed as he recovered.

Eventually, his breathing returned to something that felt like normal, and his eyesight cleared. He caught her looking at him. "Dr. Temperance Brennan," he stated slowly. "You are, by far, the most ridiculously amazing woman I have ever met. What the hell did you do to me?"

She didn't have an answer for him. "C'mere," he said, beckoning to her and making a space for her beside him. After a moment's hesitation, she joined him, resting her head in the crook of his arm, and her hand on his bare chest. She could feel his slowing heartbeat. He closed his eyes and lay silently.

She accomplished what she had set out to do. She had expected to feel triumphant, satisfied, full—they would be back on an even playing field, equals once more. She had expected to feel more _normal, _somehow.

But whatever she was feeling wasn't normal. And the "different" that she had felt before this night seemed only exacerbated by what had just occurred, and she wasn't sure why. A little voice from inside of her answered the unspoken question. "_It's because you want more. You thought that having more would take the edge off the wanting. But it just makes you want it more…and more…and more…."_

"Sshhh," she whispered softly, silencing her internal voice. She closed her eyes. What the hell _had _she done to him, indeed? What did he do to her? And what the hell were they going to do with each other?

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**A/N: And the author sayeth: ye shall now review. And so it was done.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: So this chapter turned out a little more angsty than I had originally intended. But we all know where this is going. The real question is, are they going to get it on in the pool, or will they go inside? I haven't quite decided yet…maybe my rockin' awesome reviewers can help me out with that one (and you **_**are **_**rockin' awesome….all the reviews have been kind, and some of them have been downright elation-producing. I appreciate each and every one).**

**Also, I'm having a little bit of Hart Hanson-syndrome—I'm suddenly terrified of the L-word being approached by our favorite couple. Maybe I'm worried that once it is said, the story will be over. Maybe it **_**should **_**soon be over. Let me know your thoughts. I will write as long as folks are interested.**

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She moved smoothly through the water with even, practiced strokes. She had always loved the water. Aside from the weightless experience that she and Booth took part in during their case of the murdered astronaut, this was the closest she came to defying gravity, being unencumbered by her own body. One reason she had chosen her particular apartment complex was the availability of a private Olympic-sized pool, gated and only accessible using a resident key. During the summer days, families and children, delighted from their break from school, swarmed the area splashing, laughing, and sunning themselves. She avoided the pool at all costs during those times. However, in the smallest hours of the weekday mornings, she never had to vie for a spot; in fact, she had never run into another soul here past midnight. Although the silence and the stillness might be a little eerie to some, she welcomed it. All there was in the world were the stars, the warm summer night air, and the deliciously slippery feeling of her body cutting through the perfectly clear water.

The steady rhythm of her strokes had an almost hypnotic effect. So when she reached the end of the pool and grabbed the edge, winded after several dozen laps, it took her a second to realize that there was a dark figure towering over her.

She pushed backwards and stifled a loud gasp with her hand over her mouth. Even surprised, her instinct to scream was suppressed by her desire to, at all costs, show no fear.

"Geez, Bones. I think that's the first time I ever really managed to sneak up on you." Booth grinned down at her.

"Yeah, you're just full of surprises lately, aren't you?" she muttered, somewhat sheepishly paddling back to the pool's edge. Her heart was still pattering madly in her chest, but he couldn't see that. She squinted up at him, her eyes adjusting to the spotlight that backlit him. "How the hell did you get in here, anyway?"

"You forget to re-lock the gate when you came in." He waggled his eyebrows at her. "You really should be more careful—any weirdo could walk in."

"Obviously," she said with a smirk. He feigned offense as she slowly backstroked a few feet away. "It's a little late for poolside service, Booth. Is there a particular reason why you are here? Other than to try your best to give me a heart attack?"

"I couldn't sleep. I tried to call, but you didn't answer. Then I remembered that you like to swim late on Mondays, so I figured that's where you were."

"I see." She tread the water while she suspended, sending ripples up to gently lap at the wall of the pool directly beneath Booth's feet. "So did you come to watch?"

"Nooooo" he drew out, rolling his eyes. Then, he was smiling again. "I thought maybe you'd be up to a little friendly competition."

"You're kidding." She eyed him warily, then noticed for the first time that he was wearing what appeared to be swim trunks.

"No way, I'm dead serious. How about 400 meters—two lengths?"

"What stroke?"

"I'll even let you pick the stroke."

'Insert requisite inappropriate joke here,' she thought. "Breaststroke."

"Whatever the lady wants." He laid down his towel (apparently, he had come prepared) and pulled his shirt over his head.

'No fair,' she thought. If he thought his impromptu striptease would distract her, though, he was about to be badly mistaken. When it came to competition, Temperance Brennan was as single-minded as they came.

He began his descent down the ladder into the pool. When the cool water hit his thighs, he hissed.

"Baby," she smiled, amused.

"Hey. Babies don't swim like I'm going to. Baby."

She gave him a dirty look, and maneuvered her way toward him. Finally back on solid ground, she was able to stand. She watched with her arms crossed as he eased his way into the water inches at a time. When he was finally submerged, he stood again to face her. "It's about time." Her lips curved upwards in the Mona Lisa smile that was her trademark.

He was about to offer some sort of snappy comeback, but he became trapped in her eyes, as he tended to do. Her hair was tied back and dark with the weight of the water. Her black, two-piece, racerback suit was not particularly revealing, but it hugged all of her curves just so. As usual, her eyes were the most brilliant thing about her, seeming to shine with their own luminescence. "Are you ready to stop talking and get to the action?" he asked.

Her gaze was challenging. "Always."

"Good. On your mark, get set….swim!"

She pushed off the side and began swimming furiously. She did not have Booth's upper arm strength, so she would have to count on her strong legs, clean cuts through the water, and the fact that, at the moment, she had less drag due to her tighter-fitting suit. After the first pool-length, she hazarded a glance over at him while she took a breath. He appeared to be about half a stroke behind her. However, the microsecond that she looked over cost her valuable time. As she pushed off the second time, she upped the energy behind her strokes, swimming even harder. When she returned back to the starting point, she popped up triumphantly and slapped her hand on the cement, her wet handprint signifying her victory. When she looked over though, Booth was standing too, his own hand on the ground.

"Ha!" he crowed. "Beat you by a second."

"There's no way! You came up at the same time I did."

"No way. I distinctly saw my hand reach the ground a second before yours."

"Well, I didn't see it" she sulked.

"Would I lie to you?"

She glared at him. "Fine. Best out of three."

They completed two more rounds in quick succession, each unwilling to admit defeat to their partner. For several minutes, everything was quiet except for the furious splashing of the aquamarine water, lit to an almost supernatural luster by the spotlight and the stars.

They were too evenly matched. Each time they finished almost in synchrony, their wet hands sounding twin slaps on the cement. Without the benefit of a judge, a stopwatch, and slow-motion replay, they were at a loss to declare a winner.

The second time this happened, their muscles were burning and they were gasping for air. Between pants, Brennan forced out "Best out of 5."

Booth groaned. "No." He lifted halfway out of the water and collapsed his torso chest-first onto the pavement, resting his head on arms. "I surrender. No more. Please."

After considering a rebuttal for a moment, Temperance decided against it. She mirrored his movement, and for several minutes they lay side by side, catching their breath.

Still recovering, he looked over at her. Seeing her this way—flushed, wet, eyes closed, breathing heavily—reminded him of another workout they had, not too long ago. The blood that was coursing through his body due to his physical exertion seemed to all suddenly take a detour towards his groin.

Temperance's breathing slowed as her pulse returned to resting rate. When she felt she could talk clearly again, she turned her head and regarded her partner earnestly.

"So. Are you going to tell me what you really came here for?"

He smiled ruefully at his partner. "Aren't the midnight Olympics enough?" His smile faded a bit. "I guess…I just wanted to make sure that things were alright. That we were still…us, I suppose." He glanced back at the pool. "Judging by the fact that we just tried to kick each other's asses, I'd say that things were pretty status quo, huh?"

She averted her eyes. "Sure, everything is fine with us. Why wouldn't it be?"

Seeing her defenses fall neatly into place, he sighed. He would have to try another approach.

"How much do you know about Catholicism, Bones?"

Surprised by the seemingly random change in topics, she looked back at him again. "Um…well, a little. Mostly just from an anthropological standpoint, how it shaped our culture. But I haven't extensively studied it, of course. I'm not religious…you know that."

He nodded. "I know pretty much. I've gone to church almost every Sunday since before I could remember. That's a lot of teaching, and learning. Some of it is so absorbed that it feels like a part of me. I was taught, not just to know about it, but really _believe _it.

"Through my life I've tried to abide by what I believe. Sometimes I'm successful, other times I'm not." He took a deep breath. "I've hurt people—killed people—for my work. I've had a child out of wedlock. I've had relationships with women…actually, _all _my relationships with women…that were inappropriate outside of confines of marriage."

She listened silently, wondering what this was all about but holding her tongue to see where he was going.

"Through everything, though, I've managed to still see myself as a good man. I have stepped up to my responsibilities, been a good father, been a good countryman. I have believed that, if God was standing in front of me to judge me, after everything was taken into consideration, he would approve of me and my life." He let out a small laugh. "Although sometimes, I've had to consider the possibility that I am just fooling myself about that."

"I don't think you are" she said softly.

"I don't know. When you want to believe something enough, it's amazing how convincing you can be. You want to know what the craziest thing is?"

She wasn't sure she _did _want to know. "What?"

"In the past two years, the girlfriends I've had, the women I had sex with…I hardly gave it a second thought. I barely felt guilty at all. And I thought about why, wondered where my Catholic guilt went. And I think I found the answer."

She was suddenly, irrationally terrified by his revelation. The water felt too cold around her, and goosebumps formed on her skin. She wanted to tell him to stop talking, now, before it was too late. But, mesmerized by his voice or the moon or the stars or whatever it was, she couldn't speak.

"I think I really thought—and this is the crazy part—that I could have sex with how ever many women I wanted, with whomever I wanted. And it wouldn't matter—as long as I could resist the one woman who I burned for, ached for, in every way. If I could stay strong in the face of everything she was, and all I felt for her, then I was somehow pure. Uncorrupted. Good…you know?"

She did know, but she didn't want to. The assertive woman with the almost cocky sexual self-confidence that had shown herself a few days before seemed to have abandoned her. She wanted scramble out of the pool and run from his words. But still, she couldn't, any more than if she were chained there. She was locked in place by his eyes.

"But I couldn't do it, could I? Couldn't resist. I pretended that it was in the name of friendship, caring. We were two partners giving to each other, helping each other out, right? It wasn't because I was hungry for you, or was desperate to catch a glimpse of the fire that was in you. It couldn't be that."

His eyes glittered, and she wondered for a moment if he would cry. But he did not. "So I gave in. It was like looking at the sun. And I was blinded by you."

The tears that she thought she had seen in his eyes were actually welling in hers. They became heavy and dropped. If anybody else had been watching, they may have just thought that it was just remnants of pool water, still dripping from her hair.

"So, I was laying in bed tonight, trying to sleep. And I was _blind_, Temperance. Changed. And the worst thing about it was, I knew the next time I saw you, I was going to have to pretend like I wasn't. And that would be the falsest thing that had ever been between us.

"To answer your question…_that _is why I came here tonight. Because I have changed. And I wanted—_needed—_to know if you felt that change too."

His soliloquy had appeared to simultaneously sap their energy and up the tension hovering between them. She felt stunned and overwhelmed, but at the same time every nerve in her body was tingling, aware.

She knew that she had to say something, so he wouldn't drown in the space between the end of his words and the beginning of hers. But, as was becoming a habit when with him, she was at a loss for words. Both of them were aware that, for better or for worse, what she said next might be an event of cataclysmic importance in their worlds.

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**A/N: Now, if **_**you **_**were me, what would **_**you **_**want right now? Other than **_**that**_**—get your minds out of the gutter, peeps! Kidding, of course. Review, reuse, recycle!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Um…can you make a career out of writing smut? Because I am enjoying this way too much. Maybe if this whole Ph.D thing doesn't work out, I'll apply for a job at the Penthouse forum or something. Then again, if the whole Ph.D thing doesn't work out, I may be just as likely to jump out a skyscraper window. J/K. I think.**

**I have been accused of being a tease, but I assure you that I am as excitedly anticipating what is to come as much as anyone else rubs hands together wickedly I am going to be away this weekend, and I hope to post again before then, with lots more of the good stuff (that'd be the smut). This chapter was to prevent a long delay in posting, just in case I cannot. I hope you enjoy!**

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How paradoxical, she thought, that she been at the same time yearning for this moment, yet petrified of it as well. Hadn't she known that it would come to this? Temperance Brennan was nowhere close to a stupid or ignorant woman. Somewhere inside her she had known that being intimate with someone she cared so much about was not going to be an end in and of itself. It wasn't like an itch that, once scratched, brought relief. The intimacy nourished their feelings. If you water a flower and give it sunlight, it is going to grow.

How had she not seen it? She had no logical explanation for it, but she knew that Freud would happily slap the label "denial" on it and be on his merry way. Something monumental was almost certainly at hand if she was going to begin using psychology to explain her feelings.

She remembered the milieu of their first encounter. She had been confused then, too, awash in her own feelings. When she reached inside herself to find something to say, the closest thing to honesty she could find was that she wanted his touch, his kiss. As much as she still wanted those things, she somehow knew that they were inadequate now. She wanted—_needed_—more, and Booth was right. Denial now would be the same as a lie. '_You're killing me here, Temperance. Literally killing me," _he had said as she seduced him. He was wrong then; the pleasure didn't kill him. But now, a lie just might.

She exhaled shakily. He looked so beautiful there in the moonlight, the sheen of water still covering him and the desperation of his feelings for her shining in his eyes. She adored him.

"Your sun, Booth?" He nodded, recognizing his metaphor. "It is yours and mine, together. We both stood too close, looked too long." The words out, she lowered her eyes again. "Everything looks different, feels different. I can't lie in bed without remembering you there beside me. I can't breathe without remembering how you smell." She let out a small, exasperated laugh. "I can't even touch myself without remembering your hands on me. You want to talk about crazy? Just tell me how you can be everywhere around me, even when you aren't here. You asked me if I felt a change. The answer to that is, unequivocally, yes." She finally looked back at him, her eyes pleading. "Now, why don't you tell me what the hell we are going to do about it?"

As if _he _had the answers. In fact, anyone who knew the two of them would have picked him to know what the next step was—after all, he was well-versed in relationships, and had excellent intuitive skills. But this wasn't like anything else he had experienced. Where his partner was concerned, he was as wide-eyed and innocent as she was, about the feelings part.

He slid back fully into the pool and stood facing her. She unconsciously did the same, so they were on equal footing. Always. For an almost intolerable moment, neither of them moved. The air felt thick with the truth. She had lost her chance to run from this—both of them had—and they had to face the aftermath.

Booth made the first move. He put his hands on her arms. His touch felt like fire on her chilled skin. She stared at him with wide eyes, uncertain. He took another step closer, gazing back. Then, he gathered her to him and held her tightly against his chest. "Thank you," he whispered, his eyes squeezed shut tightly in relief. Although he had not answered her question, she recognized too that, at this time, this was the right thing to do. Her arms wrapped around him and she squeezed back just as hard. This was the place she had wanted to be ever since he had first touched her. It felt too heartbreakingly good, and her fears be damned, she was not going to hold back from this. They stood in the gentle lapping of the water, clinging to each other as if to avoid drowning. The moon and the stars bore witness to this joining, seeming to show their approval by reflecting especially bright on the wet shimmer of their bodies.

Booth felt a few droplets roll down his chest that felt warmer than the others. He placed his hands on her shoulders and pulled his face back a few inches from hers. "Tears?" He brushed them away with his thumbs. "Why?"

She considered this for a moment, then half laughed and half sobbed. "I don't know!" He smiled and rested his forehead against hers. "I think I'm relieved. I think I'm scared senseless."

His voice was reassuring. "I know. We just did a hard thing. You can feel however you want to feel. Just please—stay with me. Let me know I'm not alone in this."

"You were never alone in this."

The extreme, almost excruciating anxiety that had characterized the past several moments had abated somewhat. As it did, each became more aware of the physical proximity of their partner, barely dressed, pressed against each other, separated only by the slickness of the water. How had she ever thought that the water was cold? Its warmth was now enveloping the lower part of her body fully, like a lover.

"Seeley," she whispered. "We're not going to figure out all the answers tonight, are we?"

"Probably not" he replied honestly. His fingertips were sliding gently up and down her arms, leaving wet trails and goosebumps in their wake. "I don't know about you, but all this thinking has exhausted me."

"Yes." She smiled. "So…what now?"

"I'm not sure. But…" He paused.

"But what?" she encouraged.

"But I think…if it's ok…I think I have to be with you tonight."

Her body flushed hotly at his words, and each of her erogenous zones seemed to give a little twinge. No turning back.

"Temperance." He pulled her even closer, their faces centimeters apart. "No favors, ok? No giving without getting in return. No pretending. The real thing. Promise."

With his wet, strong body pressed up against hers and his lips so close that she could feel his breath on her own, she would have promised him anything at the moment. It had been two days since she kissed him, and it felt like a lifetime. "I promise," she whispered. "It's too late to pretend."

He fixed his gaze directly on her, seemingly reading her level of honesty. The desire he saw in her set his own body humming. He had never yearned for someone this badly.

"God, Temperance Brennan," he practically growled. "I am so fuckin' hot for you."

Her gasp at his forcefulness was cut off by his lips on hers. There was no tentativeness this time, no testing the waters. Their mouths tried to convey what their words never adequately could. His tongue was in her mouth, stroking every inch he could reach; hers met his and they restlessly tangled with one another, insatiable for each other's taste. They couldn't kiss hard enough, deep enough. One of his hands pressed against the back of her head, fingers slipping though her damp hair; the other wrapped around her lower back, trying to meld their lower bodies together. They kissed until their lips were swollen and they were both gasping breath—once they got that breath, their open mouths met again, greedily trying to sate a hunger that had been in them for too long.

She was trying to help him press their hips and legs together, but the water moved mischievously around her feet, making her lose her footing. Finally, frustrated, she let his arms hold her up while she wrapped her legs around his waist. There. Now, they would not be separated.

He groaned against her mouth at the intensity of this new closeness. Without breaking the kiss, he walked them forward, holding her up with one hand while feeling for something solid with the other. When he finally found the wall of the pool, he growled triumphantly and pressed her against it. With her body trapped between his own and the wall, his hands were freer to roam the contours of her body. He took advantage of the buoyancy of the water to hoist her higher, allowing his mouth to access her throat, her shoulders, and the swell of her breasts. She whimpered at the feeling of his mouth on her body. God, she had missed this.

She felt the hardness of his erection nudging her bottom, and she squirmed against it. All of a sudden, the scant amount of clothes they were wearing seemed like far too much. She felt absurdly wanton, impossibly hot. He slipped one strap of her top down. Between laps at the beads of water that had formed on her collarbone and shoulders, he gasped, "I. Have. Waited. So. Long." His words upped her arousal; she wiggled until she was in a position to capture his mouth with her own again.

If the night hadn't been so still, the silence so profound, they might not have heard the slow creaking sound behind them. Alarmed, their lips stilled and they pulled apart, looking at each other for a moment in panic, then slowly turning around to look for the source.

No one was there. A breeze had caused the gate, which she had so carelessly (and so fortunately) left unlocked earlier, to swing open a few inches.

They looked back at each other, still panting, eyes wide, both having a flashing sensation of the humiliation they would feel if they were arrested for public fornication while consummating their fledgling intimate partnership.

She suddenly laughed at the thought of her co-workers' reactions to that hypothetical news. Seeing her amusement, he chuckled as well. He tilted her head to the side and placed a soft kiss on her neck.

"You think that might have been a sign?" he asked.

"I think it's a good reason to make this party a little more private," she said.

He looked at the gate thoughtfully. "How long will it take to walk back to your apartment?"

"About 5 minutes. If we hurry."

"Then we better hurry." She began to again chuckle at his words, but her laughter faded when she saw the serious look in his eye. "Because 5 minutes from now, I am going to _be _with you. I don't care if we're in this pool, in the parking lot, or on the stairway. I've already spent too much of my time not touching you."

She believed him. "Come on. Let's go."

They climbed out of the pool and hurried to gate. They did not bother toweling off; there was no need to be dry for what was to come.

Behind them, the stars winked at them, as if they shared a special secret.

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**A/N: Have I mentioned that I have the best reviewers ever? Seriously, so rich and helpful, and they give me so many ideas. Please don't stop!**

**Don't forget to honk if you love smut!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I skipped going to the gym today so I could have this chapter done before I left. Yes, it was a sacrifice. But the people demanded it, and…I work for the people! A quick PSA—the characters in this story are about to have unprotected sex. Because it is a fantasy. In real life, _always _protect yourself. If you don't, I will find out about it. And as punishment, I will not write any more chapters.**

**Isn't it fun to pretend you have any control, over anything? Heehee.**

**FYI: I've posted a link to my MySpace page on my profile on this site. My MS profile is set to private, so if you aren't a member and aren't on the friends list, I suppose it is pretty useless. Sorry—it's all I got! If you send me a friend request, make sure you also send a message saying you are from this site, so I know you aren't a complete stranger or (God forbid) one of my clients.**

**Without further adieu…onto the smut!**

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She led the way, and he followed. She glanced back at him every so often, but they did not speak, and did not touch. Each knew that a touch right now might spiral into something much more intense, which they both wanted; just not in a public hallway. It had taken an effort of epic proportions to pull apart in the pool, and neither wanted to risk that they would be able to muster that strength again.

After they entered the apartment, he pushed the door shut behind them. Locked it. Tested the lock once, twice. There would be no more interruptions, short of the end of the world. And if the sky hadn't fallen when they confessed how badly they wanted one another (had they thought that it would? because they had certainly been acting like it), it was unlikely to do so anytime soon.

She had untied her hair and it fell in tousled waves around her flushed cheeks, and she was biting her lip almost bashfully. It wasn't every day that she stood half-naked in front of her partner, knowing that a physical expression of their feelings was imminent. He turned and regarded her, smiling. "How do you feel?"

"Wet," she said seriously, and he bit back a chuckle at her unintentional double entendre. "A little cold. But hot. It's confusing."

"Do you know what helps me when I start to think to much?" he asked her, moving closer.

"Mmm?" Her eyes widened a bit, and her heart sped up at his proximity. Just minutes ago they were pressed against each other, as close as they could get. But she still wasn't used to that closeness. She wondered in the back of her mind if she could ever get used to the feelings he was arousing in her.

He answered her by cupping her face in his hand and pulling her mouth to his. This kiss was slower than the last, more exploratory. The need to immediately take her, _consume _her, had abated slightly in their walk to the apartment. He planned to take full advantage of his self-control while he had it, because he was certain it wouldn't last for long. He traced his tongue along her lips and she responded with her own exploration, tasting, memorizing the feel of his lips and the flavor of him. He felt her skin heat up under his fingers and he marveled at the effect that his kiss had on her body. Sensing his own increasingly pounding heart and tightening groin, he had to acknowledge that she wasn't the only one being so effected. Feelings of both lust and adoration washed over him and he thought, somewhat crazily, that this kiss was better than all the sex he had ever had, with anyone. That couldn't be right, could it? Didn't matter. All that mattered was the gorgeous woman in his arms and what the next few hours (days? weeks?) had in store for them.

"Booth?" she whispered between kisses.

"What?"

"I'm not sure I can stand much longer if you keep doing that."

He realized that he was, indeed, not just holding her but supporting much of her weight as well. He smiled. "I'm sure we can find a solution to that. But I'm not going to stop."

"I wasn't asking you to." She gasped as his mouth found hers once again, deeper this time, with more intensity. She barely noticed as he began to maneuver their bodies down the hallway toward her bedroom. At one point he pushed her against the hallway wall, supporting her with the weight of his body while his hands found their way to her hair, her shoulders, her waist, her hips. Everywhere they went they left a tingling, hot sensation in their wake that seemed to sap the strength straight from her legs. She was never so grateful for a wall in all her life.

His overwhelming need to touch her quelled a bit (but _not _satisfied—never satisfied, it seemed), he released her from the wall and used his mouth to once again propel her into the bedroom. Even while kissing her, his mind registered the scent and the feel of the room, and his mind was bombarded with images of the last time he was here, when she bestowed upon him the most powerful orgasm of his adult life. His cock throbbed almost painfully at the memory, and he pulled his mouth away just long enough to tell her "You should be glad that just being in this room doesn't make me come."

She smiled. "Classical conditioning?" she asked. That was the second time she had thought of psychology tonight. What was happening to her?

While in the water, the wetness had felt inviting, sexy. Now their suits felt uncomfortable, both because of their dampness and the fact that they were becoming a frustrating barrier to their touches. The last times they had been together like this (_not _like this, she mentally corrected herself—they had both acknowledged that change), undressing one another was part of the seduction. Now, she was keenly aware that the removal of their suits would leave them unceremoniously naked. Would that bother her?

He nipped at the junction of her neck and shoulder and he sucked there, while his fingertips caressed her behind her ear and trailed down her throat on the other side. On second thought, being naked _right this second _might not be a bad idea. Besides, her weakened knees demanded the bed, and it would be foolhardy to create a wet spot with their bathing suits before they had even really begun.

As if reading her mind, his thumbs crept underneath the seam of her top and stroked there. The tips of his fingers barely brushed the undersides of her breasts, and she shivered and moaned softly at the sensation. "May I?" he asked. She nodded vigorously.

He hooked his thumbs under the top and gently peeled it from her body, over her head. The air hit her damp skin and her nipples immediately hardened. She ached for him to touch them, kiss them.

He stared at her for a second. "I imagine you like this. All the time."

"Since the last time?"

"No. Since I met you."

The seam of her top had left a red impression where it circled underneath her breasts. Upset with this mark for interrupting the perfect smoothness of her alabaster skin, he kneeled before her and caressed it with his tongue, trying to soothe it away. He was favored with a sharp intake of breath on her part, as the hot wetness of his tongue met her chilled skin in a most sensitive area. He was amazed that, despite the chlorine in the pool, she still tasted so sweet, so like _her. _She arched up to give him greater access, her hands finding his shoulders and kneading in time with the strokes of his tongue. His hands framed her breasts, and then slid them down until they met the elastic of her bottoms. Annoyed with this obstruction as well, he dispensed with these as well, sliding them slowly down the incredible length of her smooth legs. She stood before him, uncovered. He cupped her bottom and gazed up at her, in awe. Tonight, she was to be all his. Tonight was all _theirs. _

Moved by the wonderment in his eyes, she placed her hands around his face and urged him up. He met her eyes. "How can this be so beautiful?" She wasn't sure if he was talking about her body, the act they were carrying out, or the feelings that were coursing through them, as tangible as their touches. She wasn't sure it mattered.

"It is exactly as it should be." She was quoting him, from a time and place that she couldn't quite remember. She took advantage of his momentary stillness to place her own wet kisses on his throat, shoulders, and chest. His head tilted back, allowing himself to enjoy the luscious feel of her soft lips on his overheated body. His shorts were tugged down his hips and he was slightly alarmed. If she even breathed near his genitals he wasn't sure he wouldn't spontaneously combust. Fortunately, she was allowing herself the luxury of looking at him. Her eyes took in every muscle, every ridge, every scar. Took in his straining erection, seeming to be begging for her attention. Oh yes. She had never seen art that moved her like this.

"You are going to make me blush. Looking at me like that."

"Looking at you makes me wet. I told you that," she murmured, using her finger to trace the contours of his chest that she found particularly interesting.

He swallowed thickly at her words, remembering easily the wet tightness as he thrust his fingers into her while working her over with his mouth. He had worried that he'd have to live on the memories alone.

They had instinctively been edging towards the bed. Feeling it behind her legs, she climbed onto it, sitting on her knees. He followed suit, never taking his eyes off her. He kissed her again, tracing the outline of her body.

"You know," she said, "It's ok to touch me more."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Here we are, naked, and you've barely gotten to third base." She smiled against his lips.

She was right. The remarkable thing was, his body felt like he had rounded all the bases. Several times.

"Just testing your patience," he gently teased.

"My patience is being severely tested by my desire to have you inside me very, very, soon."

He moaned softly. His palms resting on her ribs, he used his thumbs to gently rub back and forth on her oversensitized nipples. It was her turn to moan. Satisfied that she was sufficiently enjoying this play, he leaned over and took one in his mouth. He gave it the same treatment that he had given her clit more than a week before, delicately flicking it with the tip of his tongue for several seconds before increasing the pressure, rolling his tongue around it and sucking gently. She felt the pulse between her legs increase to a steady, deep throb, and she whispered his name again and again, fingers tangled in his hair.

He went from one nipple to the next. His fingers trailed down her torso, her belly, towards….oh no, he _couldn't_…oh, he could…the heel of his hand lending pressure to gently massage her clit.

She was gasping steadily now. She could easily come like this, on her knees, with his mouth on her breast and his hand between her legs. With a whimper she reached out and, finding her prize, wrapped her fingers around shaft. She stroked in time with his movements between her own legs.

"Ok," he groaned. "I get it." He was far too hot for this, her body and her motions steadily pushing him towards the edge of some great precipice. They both knew that there was more to be done before they allowed themselves to fall.

Allowing his hand to fall, he kissed her lips once more, deeply. He pulled back. "Lie down," he rasped. He held her shoulders and helped her to ease back, their eyes locked. He stayed, sitting, before her, drinking in the sight of her spread out around him. He dragged his palms down the silky smooth skin of her breasts, her belly, her hips.

"Seeley, please," she pleaded, her body feeling like a tightwire. Her fingers clasped at his hips, begging as well.

"Maybe just a little," he said, his shaky voice betraying the teasing nature of his words. He lowered his hips down as she looked at him questioningly, then with widened eyes as she recognized his intention.

Their centers were aligned, close enough to feel the heat pouring off of each other, but not pressed together enough to give satisfaction. He moved closer. Taking hold of his erect cock, he rubbed the head of it slowly across her engorged clitoris. She nearly screamed at the feeling. His fingers were good. But this….this was so close. So close to what she wanted. She writhed against him.

He lowered his cock, moved it wetly between her lips. He sighed….so good. 'Just a little," he reminded himself. He lined his cock up directly with her entrance, urged on by her whimpers and supplications. Taking a deep breath, he allowed the tip of himself—just the tip—to slide inside her.

They both froze for a second at the new sensation, and then let out deep, twin moans. Almost immediately, he could feel her inner muscles clasping at him, urging him deeper. He resisted. He would give her what she wanted soon enough, but he planned to make this last as long as possible. Although confident that she could probably make his body explode before he was even close to fully inside her, he had no intentions of allowing that to happen. "Seeee-leeeey," she moaned, frustrated.

"Ssshh," he whispered. "Just relax." Gritting his teeth against the storm he knew was coming, he began to rock with a gentle motion, allowing just the head of his cock to slip in and out of her, massaging her opening. Licking his fingers, he began to lightly circle and rub her clit at the same time. And as he did this, he watched her and listened. Watched as her head tossed and her fingers contracted, grasping anything within reach. Listened to her increasingly ragged breathing, which rose steadily into gasps and moans. He would remember every second of this, and it would haunt his dreams. She was clasping, clasping, bucking against him. She was beautiful.

"Seeley," she moaned. "I'm gonna…I'm gonna…"

"Come," he whispered. With that, she stiffened and took what felt like a vice grip on the tip of his cock. Her face contorted, her toes curled, and the sounds she made would echo in his ears for a long, long time. And before she was even done, all he could think about how to make her do it again.

She had the same idea. He slipped out the bit of himself that was inside her. Her orgasm still quivering inside of her, she looked at him almost defiantly. "More."

If he didn't feel like his balls were about to explode, he would have laughed. "Of course." He leaned over her body and kissed her hotly, wetly.

He expected her to pull him fully on top of her, or maybe even to push him over and jump on top of him herself. He would have no complaints with either. However, she surprised him by flipping onto her side, facing away from him. She arched her bottom towards him, exposing her center, and looked back seductively over her shoulder at him, her intent unmistakable.

Oh, God. He laid on his side parallel to her, wrapping his arms around her and burying his face in the back of her neck. "Temperance. Tell me you want this."

She rubbed against him, causing him to moan. "I want this."

"Tell me you want _me._"

She looked back at him again. "Seeley Booth. I've never wanted someone so badly in my entire life as I want you right now."

Good enough. He positioned himself by her soaking entrance. He moved her hair, put his lips by her ear and whispered. "You are everything."

He thrust fully inside of her with one smooth motion, and their moans were indistinguishable from one another. They went slowly at first, savoring the sweet friction of every inch of every thrust. That friction quickly caused the need to escalate. His hands began moving restlessly over the front of her body, stroking her breasts.

She had never felt so full. She felt one hand caress the back of her thigh, and she lifted her leg slightly to give him access. He began, again, to stroke her clit while he thrust. Aaaahh. That always got her. Her hips bucked frantically, not entirely sure if they most wanted the entirety of his length on the backstroke, or the maddening pressure of his fingers on the upstroke. Her quickened motions inflamed him. "Temperance. Oh God."

She couldn't stop; there was no way. Although she had just orgasmed a few minutes ago, her body was again craving release. Yes, this would be good. Better than good. As she again began to feel the tension uncoil in her belly, she decided to take him with her. She reached back, found his flexing ass, and pushed it harder, faster. She dropped her hand lower, felt where their bodies were joined. Lower. She found his balls. Yes. She began stroking and massaging them with her hand.

The groan he produced was so loud that the neighbors could probably here, but neither of them cared. As soon as his orgasm started, he knew that it was going that it was going to be another of those earth-shattering, blinding ones. He would be no good once it was over. He rubbed her clit even more frantically.

That did it. She seized in mightily as he exploded inside her. Even as their bodies convulsed, she forced herself to twist her upper body to face him. Capturing his lips, they cried out into each other's mouths. Their full bodies felt the impact of that climax. It was the equivalent of being hit with a Mack truck. But much more pleasurable.

They continued to kiss as the last of the spasms rolled through their bodies, and afterwards as the aftershocks became fewer and further in between. By the time they ended, there was no energy left, and she couldn't stay in her twisted position. Gasping, she fell back to the pillow. They laid, joined, while their bodies slowed down.

"Was that for real?" he asked, slowly, wonderingly.

"I think that's the realest thing that's happened for a long, long time."

"I needed that. Needed you."

She glanced backwards at him and smiled briefly. "Me too."

He would stay tonight. In the morning there would be no question about whether or not they could kiss, touch. They would probably have sex again. As long as it was just the two of them, together, honesty would prevail.

The world outside, and the people in it, waited for them. It would want answers. It would want a plan. It would want a definition about what, exactly, was happening between them.

Until they had to face it, they would be content to be suspended, in this world they had created for themselves.

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**A/N: As I put my blood, sweat, and tears into this chapter, I comforted myself with the knowledge that when I come back on Sunday, I'll have lots and lots of reviews in my mailbox. Right? **_**Right? **_**(said in a maniacal, review-craving crazy voice).**

**Love ya!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Yeeeaahh. Back and feeling energized by my little vacation and by the super-awesome reviews I got. Love it. Wasn't even planning on writing today, but the story seems to have a hold on me now.**

**I'd like to give special kudos to BonesDBChippie, who somehow ascertained from my writing that my field is psychology, even though I'm fairly sure I never mentioned it specifically. There is only one explanation. **_**She is psychic. **_**I bet you even know what's coming next in this chapter, don't you BDBC? Did you guess smut? OMG YOU ARE RIGHT. It is true! Amazing.**

**Enjoy this fluffy little chapter, and please review!**

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It was early. _Very _early. The good folks of Washington D.C. were mostly at rest, renewing themselves before the sun rose and they had to face the hustle and bustle of a hot morning in the city. The government would legislate then. The tourists would pour down the streets, snapping their pictures and gawking at the monuments. Temperance Brennan and Seeley Booth would go to work as they did most every day, seeking answers in the deaths of others, trying to make the world a safer place for the living. It would be a morning like any other.

But it wasn't here yet, and they were content to ignore its inevitability. A small lamp lent a warm glow to the room. He was lying propped up on pillows, against the headboard. She was reclining against him, settled comfortably between his legs. The warmth of the night made covering mostly unnecessary, so neither had bothered to dress. The sound of jazz floated down the hallway and into the room; Russell Garcia, if she identified it correctly. She had hit "play" on her stereo on her way back from getting a drink of water, and was grateful that what began playing wasn't something that would completely be peculiar to a non-anthropologist. They both lay quietly, listening, allowing the warm sound of the music to cover them like a blanket. His hands stroked her, not intending to arouse at the moment, only to soothe.

After their mutual climaxes had managed to nearly short-circuit their bodies, the two had both dozed off, still joined, exhausted. They slept for a while; it might have been 30 minutes or a few hours. Temperance had dreamt of falling from a great height in slow motion, not sure from where she had begun her descent but finding the experience not completely unenjoyable.

She had awoken first. While they had been sleeping, he had at some point slipped out of her body, but her bottom was still firmly nestled into his hips, and she felt his growing erection pressing against her once again. A quick glance over her shoulder told her he was still asleep, his body responding unconsciously to the pressure against him, or to his own dreams. She considered for a moment whether or not to allow him to rest. She looked at the clock. Aaah. This night…._their _night…was going much too fast. Reaching down between her own thighs, she positioned his hardened penis snugly between them. Moving experimentally, she found that by tilting her ass at a certain angle, she could also stimulate herself while she gripped his shaft with her legs. Perfect.

She remembered that the clitoris is the only organ, male or female, which functions solely for the purpose of sexual pleasure, and that it had even more concentrated nerve endings than the fingertips. If she believed in God, she would likely thank him for designing their bodies so perfectly, as to give her the level of bliss that was rapidly building as she slid against her partner.

He stirred behind her and groaned softly. Awake. She stilled for a second and turned her head to look at him, smiling.

"Are you trying to take advantage of me in my sleep?"

"Not trying. I'm fairly certain that I was succeeding."

"Well, don't." He moved back enough to roll her towards him, then he rolled his own body on top of hers, so they were face to face. "I want to be awake for every second of being taken advantage of by you."

She smiled, enjoying the intimacy of the body-to-body, face-to-face contact. She lifted her head to close the inches that were between their mouths and enjoyed the lingering kiss. When she laid her head back down, she sighed wistfully. "We are running out of time."

"Then we have to find someway to make it stop." He kissed her softly again. "Am I crushing you?"

"No." He was heavy, but his weight made her feel secure, somehow. "It's kind of nice to have a…skin blanket."

He burst out laughing. "Maybe if my career in the FBI gets boring, I'll work full-time as a skin blanket."

Their laughter and kisses melted together, and soon their tongues were stroking each other heatedly once more. She felt deep throbs inside of herself followed by a surge of moisture between her legs, and was reminded that her arousal from rubbing against him a few minutes earlier was largely unrelieved.

"God, this is almost too good," he murmured, savoring the feeling of his skin on hers. "You get me so worked up."

"Mmm," she replied, kissing him again.

"I just want to crawl up inside you and surround myself with you…and never leave."

"What's stopping you?"

Spurred on by her words, he lifted off of her carefully and began favoring the rest of her body with heated kisses and wet licks. He was getting increasingly able to quickly zero in on the spots on her body that got the most reaction, and was using this to his fullest advantage. Every time she gasped, he felt like he won the lottery.

"You ready for me?" he breathed. He dipped a finger into her opening and groaned at the lubrication he found there. She was so wet, so sweet.

"Yeah," she gasped. "Pretty much always." Her hips were beginning to buck off the bed.

"How do you want it?"

"Deep. As deep as you can get. Please."

He grasped her hips and pulled them closer to the edge of the bed. "Yes. I want that too."

Reading his intention, Temperance swung her legs up and rested them on his shoulders. He stroked them from her calves to her thighs. He positioned himself, half standing on the floor, half leaning on the bed, supporting himself with his arms.

His weight pressing her legs back gave her what felt like the best stretch of her life. She finally realized why she had been attending her yoga classes so religiously. It was to prepare her for this very moment.

Adjusting his position slightly, his erect cock found her entrance. He pushed into her an inch and paused, absorbing her heat.

"Seeley Booth—I swear if you are not completely inside of me in one second I am going to kill you," she gasped. The woman was in no mood for teasing. The past two years had been tease enough.

There really was no time to waste. He leaned forward and eased fully into her, groaning. "God, you are so tight."

The angle of her pelvis and the leverage he was getting by half-standing on the floor allowed him to slide in particularly deep. Eventually, it was also going to allow him to thrust particularly hard. Right now, he didn't feel like withdrawing from her any more than he had to, so he began a slow pumping motion, massaging the inside of her with his cock.

Her eyes fluttered shut. She asked him for deep, and he was giving it to her, filling her to the hilt and seeming to reach places inside of her that hadn't been touched before. When he began to up the power behind his thrusts, it rocked her back and forth on the bed. She was reminded, for a second, of her dream of falling, and how it felt almost exhilarating to be so moved.

Once he began to thrust harder, he felt like he couldn't stop. Even if it was physically impossible to be inside her any deeper, his body wanted to try, propelling him forward with increasing strength. Maybe a part of him (the crazy part of him, he thought) believed that if he could just get deep enough, they would become one person for a moment. And then, time _would _stop. "Open your eyes, Temperance."

She did, and it forced her to see where she was falling from, who she was falling with. Her breathing was labored and the tension building inside of her was almost unbearable. She typically needed clitoral stimulation to reach orgasm, but the way she was positioned, the feel of him pounding into her, the look in his eyes…he was rubbing something deep inside of her and making her feel as if she were higher than she had ever been. Wasn't it Freud who had said that there was a difference between vaginal and clitoral orgasms? Said that the vaginal kind was more mature, better. He had been wrong; all orgasms were physiologically the same, no matter where they originated. But it did feel different, to be so stimulated—special, somehow, and it excited her.

His thrusts were becoming less measured now, and the sounds he was making told her he was close as well. She did her best to rock back into him with more force. She allowed his cock and his face and his eyes to drive her higher, higher. And then she was falling, hurtling towards the ground. There was nothing slow-motion about this fall. She came with a force that was almost terrifying, and she grasped for him, moaning, begging him to come with her.

The look on her face was the most sensual erotica imaginable, and it served to push him over the edge as well. Both almost sobbing, they pushed and pulled at each other, never wanting to reach the ground. He emptied himself inside of her. He felt that somehow, she had left something of herself inside of him, as well.

He never wanted to leave her, wanted their bodies to stay put like this all night. But after the climaxes had swept through their bodies and feelings declined to a more manageable place, he became aware of a dull ache in his wrists where he had been holding himself up on the bed; she felt the twinge in her hamstrings which was mostly likely going to make it _very _difficult to walk when she got up in a few hours. With a gasp, she moved her legs from his shoulders. He collapsed on top of her, and they lay there for several minutes, breathing heavily. It was almost too good, indeed.

That was about an hour ago. They had been unable to sleep after that, something deep inside of them wound up. And now, as they lay calmly, listening to Russell Garcia and stroking each other's bodies with a soothing touch, their minds remained busy. It would be light soon. Would the sun make things look different? Would it shed light on what was to come?

She tilted her head back to look at him. "You have to go soon."

"You're kicking me out?" he teased, stroking her hair.

"Well, I'm assuming that exhaustion and soreness from sex do not count as viable excuses to miss work. And I think if you show up at work in a t-shirt and swim trunks, things might be a little bit awkward."

He smiled. "I suppose you are right." His smile faded. "I don't want this to end. I worry that once I step out that door, the spell will be broken. It will all fall down."

She sighed. "Nothing's going to end, Booth." He raised his eyebrows at her. "Give me a little credit here. I haven't freaked out yet, have I?" He smiled again, shaking his head. "I think we just need a little more time. Time to figure out how all of this"—she gestured towards their bodies—"fits into all of that." She gestured away from them, towards the window. "We need some more time to think."

He kissed the top of her head, and gently extricated himself from underneath her. "Maybe you are used to all this thinking. I, myself, am not. I function much better when I throw all of that out the window." He kissed her lips, and headed for the shower.

She let out a long breath, then turned off the bedside lamp, laying her head on the pillow and allowing her eyes to rest briefly while the music washed over her. She was a thinker. For most all of her life, thinking…and thinking _well_…was about all she had. She could work this out, somehow.

She just hadn't counted on how hard it was to think while you were falling.

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**A/N: So, the theme song for this story is "Suspension," by Mae. Highly downloadable, highly recommended.**

**Send me a little somethin', why don'tcha?**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Another sort of wrote-itself chapter. I should really slow down, let the anticipation build, huh? What's going to happen if I can't even be a good **_**tease **_**anymore? Jeesh.**

**I am pleasantly surprised that the story has had over 16,000 hits to date. Which means if only my reviewers are reading, they've read it **_**143 times each. **_**Wow! It's of course, more likely that there are still some lurkers out there. For shame! I haven't even had my first flame yet. Where's the fun in that? Hey lurkers…lurk your way into my inbox! (!Smiles!)**

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The day was, mercifully, uneventful. There were no new cases to work on, so Temperance Brennan could return to her first real passion: identifying the remains of the long-dead: victims of war. She enjoyed the invigorating rush of trying to solve a case, but when she needed a calming influence, this was the way to go. Slowly, methodically examining the skeleton from top to bottom, having the luxury of time to take note of every feature, all possible identifiers. For her, it was like meditation.

She was not unaccustomed to working on very little sleep, but this was ridiculous; she was _wiped. _Even three cups of coffee weren't enough to energize her. They only served the purpose of exacerbating the trembling of her already-taxed legs. Eventually she had needed to sit down to rest.

Angela watched her curiously as she walked to her office and gingerly lowered herself into her chair, the backs of her thighs screaming their protest at the change in position. "What did you _do _last night?" she had asked.

"I went swimming. Got a little carried away," she replied, not untruthfully. She would not keep the secret of her change in relationship with Booth from Angela forever, but now she was simply too tired and too confused to deal with it. Plus, she did not want any undue influence over the decisions she was trying to make. It was just too much.

"Hmm." Angela looked her up and down. Was that suspicion she saw in her eyes? "The last time I came to work walking like that was the morning after Jack and I played the Rocky Horror Picture Show drinking game. Only, instead of drinking, we used sex."

This was _way _too much. "The rocky road what?"

Angela rolled her eyes, and gave up pretty easily, this time. "Get out more," she commanded as she walked off.

Brennan would have gone home a little early, but such an action would have had the same effect as setting off flares and putting up a sign: 'Look at me! There's something different!' So she toughed it out.

At home, she immediately collapsed on the couch and fell into a deep sleep that even her dreams could not touch. Her body forcibly took the rest that it had been denied the previous night. When she awoke several hours later around 9, she felt lethargic and heavy-limbed, but not nearly as drained as before. She went to the kitchen and ate a quick snack/dinner, then went to draw herself a bath. Her Jacuzzi-style tub was becoming the best investment that she had made all year.

There was a knock at the door. Of course. She should be becoming used to these nighttime visits, and it shouldn't surprise her. But the part of her that did not really depend on anybody still gave a start whenever she heard that knock.

She opened the door, and rested her head on the doorframe. "Hey," she said. He looked tired, too, but good. Very good.

"Hey," he replied. He paused. Then, "I missed you."

She stepped aside to allow him entry. "I'm going to take a bath," she said, almost confrontationally, as if she expected him to try to stop her.

"Hey, I don't blame you. It's a good idea. It's been a long day."

She finally smiled slightly. "You can say that a couple of dozen times." She looked towards the bathroom, which was beginning to emit steam into the hallway. The bath was likely almost full. "You can come in and sit in the room with me. You know, if you want to talk."

He returned the smile. "That'd be great. As long as I can sit."

They walked together to the bathroom. The sides of the tub that weren't against the wall had two steps leading up to the landing. She leaned over and stopped the running water. She dipped a few fingers into the water and gasped. Hot. Perfect. She liked her bathwater one step before unbearably hot—it seemed to melt the tension right out of her.

He sat on the second step. She hesitated before disrobing, then thought to herself how silly it was to be shy _now, _the night after her partner saw, touched, and kissed most every inch of her naked body. Shaking off the feeling, she took off her clothes and put them aside. He watched her unabashedly, his eyes nearly black in the dim light. She hissed when her foot first entered the water, then slowly eased the rest of her body in as well. Once submerged to the shoulders, she reached over and turned the jets on, adjusting them to low so the sound wouldn't compete with their voices. Allowing the jets and bubbles to beat the tension out of her neck, shoulders, and back, she closed her eyes, sighed and relaxed. They were both quiet for several minutes.

When she finally opened her eyes, she found him still watching her. "What was your day like?" she asked, to distract him.

"Mostly useless," he replied. "A desk day. Trying to get some leads on a murder-for-hire case, but no luck. Didn't help that I could hardly hold a thought in my head." He shifted. "You?"

"Got some work done on some of the historical remains that have been on my docket for awhile, but my stamina was in short supply." She smiled. "Angela told me that I need to get out more."

"Oh, I don't know. Staying in has its own charms."

"True." The corners of her mouth turned up just slightly. They sat quietly for another moment.

He cleared his throat. "So…."

"So…." She replied. Their eyes met, neither knowing quite where to go. They dissolved into soft laughter, each charmed by the other's awkwardness.

"What are we afraid of, Bones?" he asked softly, once the smiles faded. "Seriously. Why does this thought of being together—more than partners—seem like such a huge leap? We're acting like if we say it out loud…yes, we are more, we're going to commit to being more…that the world's going to end."

She looked down. When they were in bed, it was so easy to forget about all this hard stuff. Everything felt so natural, it fell into place so easily. It was when she had to work at figuring out how the pieces of the puzzle fit together that she became uncomfortable.

Sensing her anxiety, he made a move to ease it. He slid to a position on the landing behind her and picked up a tumbler sitting behind her. "Here," he said, lifting her hair behind her shoulders and tugging it gently, encouraging her tilt her head back. She did so, and he filled the cup with bathwater and carefully pouring it through her hair, dampening it. He repeated this several times.

Feeling less uneasy now that his eyes weren't boring through her (at least not that she could see), she replied.

"I guess…well…there's a couple different things."

He picked up her shampoo bottle, poured some on his hands and lathered it between his palms. "Tell me."

"I worry that it will distract us. I can't have more days like today, when I can't fully concentrate on my work. My work means too much. So does yours."

He began to work the lather into her hair, massaging her scalp with his fingers. "Maybe if we don't wait 2 years next time, we won't have to spend all night long trying to make up for it. Maybe we can have sex _and _sleep."

His hands in her hair felt amazing. "Ok. But what about…we're very different people, Booth. Seriously, fundamentally different. For our work it doesn't always matter so much, because we have these separate lives. But if we were more…together…those differences might become more pronounced, and more important. They might be serious obstacles. We'd probably fight all the time.

He brought his lips close to her ear, inhaling the scent of the shampoo and the bathwater and her. "We already do fight all the time," he whispered, as if revealing a secret. "I adore fighting with you." He eased back to grab the tumbler, and again filled it, beginning to rinse her hair. The soapy bubbles dripped down her shoulders and into the water.

The feeling of the water, his hands on her, and his breath against the back of her neck and her ear were relaxing her, and arousing her, against her will, weakening her resolve. She had to get all this out, because it was the truth. She owed him the truth.

"Booth," she whispered.

"Talk to me," he said, smoothing his hands down her shoulders to where they met the water, marveling at how smooth her skin felt under his fingers.

"Booth. I…I don't usually feel this way." She looked over her shoulder at him, pleadingly. "It's not just distraction. I wish it were." Drawing in a shaky breath, she continued. "Sometimes I feel…_overwhelmed _by it. Like I'm not even the same person."

He looked at her earnestly. "You are exceptional. Nothing will ever change that."

"That doesn't matter. There were times…last week, and then last night, and maybe even before all that, that it felt like…you were a part of me, somehow, I could _feel _you, and it wasn't just me anymore."

She felt tears threatening to spill, and she fought them. "I am Temperance Brennan. I rely on myself. I trust myself. And if there is a part of someone else somewhere inside of me…how can I trust it? How can I count on it, control it? How can I make sure that it's not taken away?" Her tears won their battle, one slipping down her cheek, into the water. "I can't afford to lose myself in someone, Seeley. Myself is all I've got. All I ever had."

He wanted to rush to comfort her, soothe her fears away, but he paused. Hadn't he thought, last night, that he would do anything to make them one person, for that moment? Hadn't he wanted her to feel the same way? Well, she had felt it. And it was scaring her half out of her mind.

He sighed. With his hands on her shoulders, he encouraged her to swivel around, facing him. He cupped her face with wet hands. "You know what? You are right."

Her tears were momentarily startled into not falling. She had not been expecting him to agree with her. She was the one with issues with relationships, not him.

"You're right," he repeated. "This is different. Different than anything that either of us have ever felt before, or done before. It feels big, scary. It feels like, should it be allowed to get any bigger, it's going to take over the world. And if it's taken away, we just might die. Right?"

She nodded. She typically didn't like having words put in her mouth. But he seemed to capture it as much as words adequately could.

"Now," he said slowly, and then paused. "Isn't that the craziest thought that we've ever had?"

She thought about it. Thought about how, apparently by osmosis, Booth was going to become a part of her, and influence her thoughts and feelings. Thought about how the power of their lust and emotions would tear down the space/time continuum, sending the world into phenomonological chaos. Thought about how, if they were ever to be apart, they would simply drop dead. Nope, can't go on anymore. My career and my friends and my family…they don't matter. My very existence was tied to the being of this relationship, and without its lifeforce, I simply can't exist. Dead, dead, dead.

He saw the wheels turning in her eyes. Knew that her logic was doing its work, this time in their favor. When she finally focused in on him, it was with a smile.

"I guess it would be hard to explain to anyone, let alone myself, why I didn't try something because it felt too good."

He looked at her tenderly. "Temperance. I'm in this with you. I have my fears and worries. Hell, obviously. Look how long it took me to get here. We are moving at the same pace." He lifted her hand from the water, kissed her fingertips. "As long as we are doing it together, the world will not end. The sky will not fall. We _will _be fine."

She smiled, bravely. "Yes, sir." Then, more seriously: "I'm, um…not really good at this. Should we talk about…what we do? What do we call ourselves? What do we call each other? How do we handle work stuff? Should we have some sort of rules? Do we…"

He silenced her with his fingers on her lips. "All that will be decided. Later." He swiveled her around again by her shoulders so she was again facing away from him. "For now, I think we should celebrate our epiphany. By finishing what we started here.

For a second she thought about protesting, wanting a plan. On second thought…she was a little tired. And he was giving her permission to let this go for a little while, to relax. And, the water swirling around her was so deliciously inviting, as was he…

All thoughts of protest left her mind when he lathered her bath pouf with fragrant body wash and began to slowly massage it across her arms and her upper body. There was no way she was going to stop him. No one had ever accused her of being stupid…

As he washed her, he leaned forward and whispered in her ear again. "You know what I think? I think we definitely resolve conflict and questions better when one or both of us is naked."

"Another epiphany," she replied, eyes closed. He rubbed the pouf lightly across her breasts and nipples, and she sighed. Arousal crept lazily into her nether regions, traveling almost viscously through her body like honey. If he wanted to take his time letting it build, he was more than welcome.

He observed her body and her reactions as he washed her. Her eyes were heavy-lidded, and her exposed skin was dewy from the steam in the room. He was rather enjoying this slow-motion sensuality. As explosive as their desperate joinings had previously been, this time he was able to intently watch every flush of her skin, parting of her lips, every stage of her increasingly hardening nipples. He turned up the power of the jets, then moved around the tub, methodically washing and rinsing her middle, her hips, her legs and feet. He saved the spot between her legs for last, gently brushing her with the material first and then steadily adding more pressure, stroking her rhythmically, until she began to make the soft 'uh, uh, uh' sounds that signified a more advanced level of her desire. Eventually, she opened her eyes for just a second. "I think I'm clean." She was breathing more heavily than when he began, and her face was more flushed. "You should probably either get in here with me, or take me to the bedroom to get…dried off."

He smiled. She was aroused for sure, but certainly wasn't up to the energy behind their last bout of heated sex.

"Don't worry babe. I'll take care of you."

She smirked at term of endearment, but didn't protest.

He thrust his hand into the water between her parted legs and swirled it around until he found what he was looking for. When he found it, he circled back behind her. He took off his outer shirt; it was short-sleeved, but still was in danger of being soaked during what was coming. Once this was done, he settled in behind her. He took a few more minutes to stroke her, with his hands this time, rolling her nipples between his fingers as he kissed the back of her neck.

"Mmm," she moaned, the agitated water doing little to disguise the rocking of her hips under the water. She was ready.

He turned up the jets one more notch, then put both hands in the water and smoothed them down from her back to her bottom. He leaned forward to get a better grip on her hips. Silently thanking the buoyancy of the water, he lifted her hips so they were suspended mid-tub. Having found what he was looking for earlier, he knew right where to aim. Her eyes flew open and she moaned, loud and long, as the stream of water from the jet stimulated her clit. She jerked in his hands and he gripped her more tightly. While he allowed the water to excite her clit, he went to work with his mouth, nuzzling the back of her neck and nibbling her earlobes. He wasn't sure she was listening to him as she thrashed in his hands, but he talked to her between kisses, anyway. "You are so incredible. I love seeing you like this. This is so good. It's going to be so good. All of it."

The water was unbelievably erotic flowing against her, like a steady, unrelenting caress. She struggled against it, with it, her impending climax hovering inside of her. She heard snippets of his words… "incredible…love…good…so good" and found that they were as sensual as anything that was happening to her clit. Her hitching gasps told him that she was almost there.

"Yeah babe. C'mon. Show me how gorgeous you are when you come."

How could he do that? Push her over the edge with his words. However he did it, it was nearly 100 percent effective. She moaned and shook, her orgasm like a dam breaking. He held her tightly, kissed her harder, protected her from the storm in her body.

As it relented, he gently set her back into the tub. The water was getting cooler now, and she was glad. Her body, already burning, might have heat stroked along with her orgasm. He pulled the plug on the tub, removed his hands from the water and wrapped them around her shoulders, holding her while she came down and the water slowly receded, revealing more of her flushed body. When the tub was almost empty, she looked up at him, then covered her face.

"I am _so _tired," she laughed.

"Yeah, I hear that," he agreed. "How about we sleep. Together."

She nodded. Thankful that it wasn't even really a question anymore.

Grabbing a towel, he wrapped it around her as she arose, holding her briefly, and kissing her lips for the first time that night. It was sweet, slow. He gently lifted her wrapped body up and carried her to the bedroom. She normally would have turned down such a chivalrous gesture, but she was tired, and her legs felt weak. _"Don't worry babe. I'll take care of you," _he had said. She would take care of him, later, as well. Give and take. Equal. Always.

The questions that remained about their partnership didn't seem so terrifying anymore, she thought as he removed his clothes and slid in the bed beside her. All would be decided. Knowing this, she fell into the most peaceful, deep sleep that she had had in a long while.

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**A/N: Aah, aren't they sweet? I'm afraid that soon the relationship development piece of this story will have to come to an end. After all, I don't want to make them seem **_**stupid**_** (um…er…do we like each other?), even if the powers-that-be want them that way. Heehee. Of course, I could continue the story with just mostly smut…not sure how committed folks are to a plot. Let me know!**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Here's a nice, long chappie for you. I hadn't been planning on significantly incorporating other characters into the story, but I had always thought it would be a sweet moment when Angela found out about B&B. So I included it…if it's too boring, then you can always just scroll to the smut. It won't hurt my feelings. Promise!**

**Speaking of smut…it would appear that most peeps (the vocal ones, at least) are quite content with the idea of mostly smut. Like I said, I work for the people! How's about a little audience participation, then…in your reviews, send me your ideas for your favorite creative, hot, or sweet ways B&B can—express their feelings for one another. LOL. If it seems like it would be a good story, I'll write a chapter about it. Yes! Love this idea! Love you all!**

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Friday, late afternoon. The majority of the workers at the Jeffersonian had either left for weekend, or were preparing to do so. The folks at the legal-medico lab were typically among the last to leave, but even the most hardcore of squints were itching to get out; it was a particularly gorgeous day, and promised to be a gorgeous night.

Brennan was in her office, finishing a write-up on a vic that she had examined earlier that day. There was a quick knock at her door, and without waiting for a reply, Angela popped her head in. "Sweetie, I'm gonna get out of here. We're still on for lunch on Sunday, right?"

She looked up. "Mmm-hmm." She did a quick status-check on her documentation. "Actually, I'm about finished here. If you can just wait a minute, I'll walk out to the car with you."

Her suggestion was met by silence. When the quietness became odd, even to her, she looked back up at her friend. Angela was staring at her with her brows furrowed. She could see her brain working hundreds of miles a minute. "Um…yes?"

Angela reached behind her and slammed the office door shut, isolating them in the room. She put her hands on the desk in front of Brennan and leaned in so they were face-to-face.

"Ok. _You _are definitely holding out on me. Zack is still here. Cam is still here. I am still here. You are _always_…always, always, always…the last one left in the lab at night. This is the third time this week that it won't be you." She cocked her head, looking at her friend suspiciously, then with indignation. "You are having _sex, _aren't you?" She pushed herself back off the desk and began pacing around the room, gesticulating wildly. "I can't believe this. My best friend is mounting someone nightly, and she's holding out on me. What the hell is wrong with people around here? I swear, Sweetie, you are breaking my heart. It hurts me. _Hurts _me."

Temperance had to hold back a chuckle at her friend's histrionics. She did feel bad about keeping a secret—_any _secret—from her, but Ange knew that she sometimes needed space to figure things out. The pouting was her way of showing that she cared.

"You're going to tell me now, right? You've _got _to."

Tempe looked at her sideways. She smiled. Opened her mouth to speak, then hesitated.

"I swear I will scream, Brennan."

She paused for just one second longer, just to torture her friend. Then, finally… "Ok! Alright!" She circled the desk and grabbed Angela's hands. "But you have to promise me you won't freak out, ok? There's nothing to freak out about."

Angela nodded excitedly, then clapped her hands over mouth, signifying her inability to freak out.

"Ok." She took a deep breath. "I kind of have something going on…with Booth." Angela's eyes bulged nearly out of her head. "Well, more than kind of, I guess. We have…feelings for one another. And we've been…um…expressing them. Physically."

A high-pitched noise emanated from the back of Angela's throat and escaped from her hands. "Angela. You promised!"

She cut off the sound, and it was immediately replaced by a rapid hopping back and forth from one foot to the other, almost as if she were running in place. Brennan rolled her eyes.

"I'm not going to talk to you unless we can discuss this like adults."

Angela stopped moving. She took several deep breaths, her eyes closed, fanning herself. After she was composed: "Ok. Alright. I'm better now. Honest." A huge grin crossed her face. "But I still wanna throw a freakin' party." She grabbed her friend's hand and tugged her to the couch in the office, pulling her down. "Oh my God, Brennan. What's going on? You have to tell me everything."

She smiled. "I really, honestly don't have time to tell you everything, Ange. I have a dinner tonight." Angela grinned like a Cheshire cat. "Don't say a word!"

"I didn't say anything!" All innocence.

"Maybe we can talk more about it on Sunday. Things are still kind of being figured out, you know. It still is really new and kind of weird. But in a good way." She looked almost shyly at her friend. "It feels really, really good, Ange."

Angela beamed. "Of course it does." Her smile faded and she regarded Brennan more seriously. "I am so proud of you, Sweetie."

"You're proud of me for having sex?"

Eye roll. "No. Well, yes. But mostly because when you told me it was Booth, I knew it was something more than that. I knew it meant that you let someone in. Took a chance. And I know that's a _big _step for you."

"You're right. It is." She squeezed her friend's hand. "But do me a favor and don't go picking out china patterns for us or anything. If you do that _I _just might freak out."

"Cross my heart," Angela said solemnly. "And by the way…there is no 'maybe' about it. We _will _talk about this on Sunday. Every single gory, wet, slippery detail."

"Eww," Brennan said, wrinkling her nose.

"But right now, I respect your right to go and enjoy 'dinner.'" Angela made elaborate quotation marks in the air with her fingers.

Brennan chose to ignore her innuendo. "Thanks, Ange." She gave her a hug. "You are a good friend."

"You are a good friend _and…_" she said from over her shoulder.

"You are a good friend _and _I'm sorry I didn't tell you about this sooner. And we'll talk more about it on Sunday."

"Perfect." Angela kissed her on the cheek and pulled away, grinning. "Let's get going then. I have a feeling dinner's going to be really tasty tonight." She winked.

As they left the lab, Angela was chattering a mile a minute about what they were to do on Sunday, practically dancing circles around her as she talked. Brennan waved goodbye to Zack and Cam, who regarded the pair curiously. Probably wondering why their resident artist was so hyped up.

'Interesting,' she thought. She had thought that the hardest part was over…acknowledging their feelings and deciding to do something about them. She hadn't projected ahead to what reality would be like…reality that very prominently featured her co-workers, who doubled as her friends. She would have to find a way to manage that issue later. Right now, there was only room in her brain for one person.

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"I'm serious. Cullen wants to kick my ass every day. With the clown-shooting thing, you could tell he was _this close _to just exploding. He wanted to fire me so bad. But he can't, because you and I have the highest rate of solved homicides in our division. If he fired me, he might as well send out a memo to the bureau, saying 'We're alright with murders. It's less people to send to jail and get mixed up in the legal system. Just kill all you want.'" He opened the oven briefly to check on the lasagna. "Just needs another few minutes, I think."

She poured another glass of wine. "Cullen doesn't want to fire you. He likes you. He gets frustrated when you breach protocol when it feels right to you to do so. You can be a frustrating man, you know."

He smiled a 100-watt smile. "No way. That can't be right. Nobody has _ever _told me that before."

"Sure," she smirked, elbowing him in the ribs with the arm that was not holding her wine glass. She sat at the table, absently retying the scarf that held back her hair as she regarded him.

Things felt relaxed, almost eerily normal. It may have been because, despite their fears, the week had progressed without incident. No major lapses of reasoning or concentration at work. No personal blow-ups or major conflicts. No sky falling. It was a relief. It may also have been because of the two times they had had sex in the past 24 hours, once the previous evening after dinner (she wondered if she would ever be able to pass the kitchen counter again without blushing), and once again, in bed, upon awakening. Each time they came, trembling in each other's arms, it seemed to take the edge off, and the tension of wanting one another out of their day for at least a little while. However, both were a little disturbed (although they had yet to acknowledge it to one another) that the time that elapsed before the need for one another became almost unbearable seemed to be getting shorter, rather than longer.

He opened the oven again. "I think we're done. And it looks perfect!" He removed the dish from the oven and sat it on the stove, looking with pride at their creation. The heavenly smell of Italian cooking filled the room. "It'll take awhile to cool down." He joined her at the table.

She regarded him languidly, her chin resting on her hand. "We need to figure out what we are doing. Inquiring minds want to know."

He raised an eyebrow. "Whose mind is inquiring?"

"Right now, just Angela's." She paused thoughtfully. "And maybe mine, as well."

"I see." He gazed at her. "Shall we run through our options and choose our favorite? We can start with the least anxiety-provoking and go from there."

"Good idea." She was pleased with his procedure. "Well…I guess we've already ruled out just stopping. Going back to what we were before…only partners."

"Off the table," he said firmly. "I mean, I guess I could tell you that it's a possibility, that we could just forget about everything and I'll never touch you again. But…uh…I'd be lying."

"Mmm. Me too. Off the table."

"Off the table. Next?"

"Next…I guess would be no-strings sex. You know, when we have…biological urges…we fulfill them. It would be discreet, and wouldn't interfere with the rest of our lives in any way"

"I'm assuming that no-strings means…no relationship other than a sexual one. And a friendship. We could still see other people."

"If we wanted to."

He looked at her contemplatively. "Would that really be ok with you?"

She paused while she thought about it. It was the kind of relationship that had become a standard with her…easy in, easy out. Only sometimes, not so easy out. A memory returned to her, unbidden. She remembered the twinge of…something…she had felt when she had realized that Booth and Cam had reinitiated their relationship. At the time, she had written off that feeling as simple resentment: _Her _partner was sleeping with someone with whom she had a sometimes conflictual relationship, and that might make work issues difficult, messy. She thought about how she would feel, now, if she were to see Cam again take Booth's hand in a way that suggested greater intimacy than that between colleagues. As she thought of this, she was surprised by the intensity of her internal reaction. Despite the delicious smells filling the kitchen, she felt vaguely sick to her stomach.

She met his eyes, almost ashamed. "I don't think I would be. Actually."

He smiled reassuringly. "That's good. Because I think if I saw anyone else touch you, I would have to kill them."

She gave him a look. "You wouldn't kill them."

"Maybe. Maybe not. Either way, it wouldn't be good."

"Hmm. Ok. Well, what's next?"

"Well," he said slowly, "I guess what's next is a committed relationship. Sex. Strings. This." He gestured around the room, which at the moment, she had to admit, had a domestic feel to it. "All the time."

She gave him a blank look that he could not decipher. Was it terror? Consideration? Happiness? All of the above? Seconds ticked by.

"Um, Bones? It'd be great if you could help me out here."

She leaned back, looking into his eyes almost suspiciously. "I want my own apartment. It's me. It's mine."

He nodded slowly. "K."

"And…I don't like the whole 'girlfriend/boyfriend' thing. I'm too old for that. I'm not a girl. You're not a boy."

"I see. Ok."

"And…it wouldn't mean that I wouldn't disagree with you. My opinions and values would not change. I'm going to tell you if I think differently than you."

He gave an amused smile. "If we never disagreed, what excuse would I have to rip your clothes off and go at it up against the wall?"

She was fairly sure that she never blushed as much in her life as she had in the past few weeks. "You can't just kiss me every time we fight, Booth."

He smiled, but made no promises.

"Seriously, Booth. Is all of that really ok? Because it's important to me. And I can't assure you that I'll ever budge on any of it." She sighed, and looked at him apologetically. "I'm not the easiest person to be in a relationship with. I readily admit that."

His mouth dropped open, feigning shock. "What?" He pushed his chair back and stood. "I came into this under the premise that you were _easy. _And now you tell me you're not? False advertising, Bones. False advertising. I'm outta here." He stomped past her, heading for the door.

"Oh, stop," she laughed, standing and grabbing him by the hand. She pulled him back towards her. Teasing her with just a bit of resistance, he finally swung back towards her, settling in her seat and pulling her onto his lap.

"Stop making fun," she said, fighting her smile. She rested her forehead against his. "This is serious business. This is our _lives._"

"I am fully aware of what this is." With his hand on the back of her neck, he kissed her lips. "It's serious. It's fun. It's good." Another kiss. "I'm willing to give it a chance, and all the other questions? The living arrangements and the work arrangements and whether or not you are going to kick my ass every 5 minutes? They can be answered later. Because you know what?"

"What?" she whispered. She swung one leg around so she was straddling him on the chair.

"I kind of sort of like you," he whispered back.

"Well…maybe I kind of sort of like you back."

"Good. I don't blame you."

She kissed him until the cocky smile disappeared from his lips, and then deepened the kiss and rocked her hips until he began making the low sounds in the back of his throat that indicated his desire for her.

"No fair," he rasped.

"Hey. We have _strings _now. I can do what I want with you," she said wickedly.

"I see." He trailed his tongue delicately up the side of her throat until he reached her mouth, then he outlined her lips with it before he plunged into her mouth for a wet kiss. He was inflamed by the taste of her skin and her lips. "How about we go back to the bedroom and put those strings to good use?"

"The food?" she gasped, as he took hold of her hips and ground them against his own, creating the most delicious pressure.

"Isn't going anywhere."

She eased back, leaning away from him. He followed her, his hands creeping under the hem of her shirt in the back, stroking her bare skin while he nuzzled the part of her chest that was exposed in the front.

"Boo-ooth. If you don't let me go, I can't get up and go to the bedroom. And then we can't use our strings." She half-laughed, half-gasped as he nibbled a particularly ticklish spot on her neck. The pulse between her legs was growing more demanding, and she squirmed.

He finally relented, lessening his grip on her and allowing her to wiggle off his lap. With one last seductive smile, she dashed to the bedroom.

He laughed as he caught up to her, spinning her around and kissing her. "In a hurry, are we?" He reached to her chest to begin unbuttoning her top. She took a step back and clasped his hands in hers.

"Not in _that _much of a hurry," she chided. Then, smiling: "You first."

He looked at her dubiously. "You got something up your sleeve, hot stuff?"

She shrugged, innocently. She slid her hands under his t-shirt, appreciatively lingering on the muscles of his abs and pecs before she pulled it over his head, leaving him bare-chested before her. At the same time he unbuckled his pants, allowing an easy transition from lifting his shirt to pulling down his pants. Once nearly naked, she nearly pounced on him, knocking him backwards to lie prone on the bed, his head propped up by the pillows. He let out a throaty chuckle as she peppered his face and his chest with kisses.

"Thought we weren't in a hurry." He gasped as she licked his nipple and lightly ran her fingernails down his sides. It was his turn to squirm. She lifted her head and readjusted her position, straddling his chest.

She shrugged. "Maybe I'm hungry." She reached behind her head and untied the scarf that was holding her hair back. Her waves spilled around her face, and he was amazed at how sexy she was, even still fully clothed, sitting on top of him. He reached up to touch her face, to pull it to his own.

He was so involved in the kiss that he didn't notice her looping the one end of the scarf around his wrist. The first knot was secured before he knew what hit him. Breaking the kiss, she sat up and looped the rest of scarf around two slats of the headboard, quickly grabbing his other wrist as well. Recognition dawned on his face as she tied the second knot.

"You are _kidding _me," he said incredulously.

She shook her head. "Nope. Told you we were going to use our 'strings.'" She eased off of him, settling at the foot of the bed, out of his reach. She regarded him with a smile. "You have a good view?"

"No. Way. You can't do this."

"Relax, Seeley. There are much worse things. Just be quiet and don't make it harder than it has to be."

Oh, it was already hard. Hard as steel.

"We need to make sure that the sex is still good even when it's not as forbidden, right?" she reasoned. She raised up to her knees, then spread her legs as she sunk down, her bottom settling between her feet. She began to slowly unbutton her shirt.

"Do you still want to see me, Seeley? Even though it's not brand new anymore. Do you want to pull off my shirt, touch my skin?" Halfway unbuttoned now, but shirt still closed, refusing to reveal anything. "Do you want to press your lips between my breasts? Squeeze my nipples through my bra until you see how hard they get for you?"

Finally done unbuttoning, she spread her shirt open for him. He sucked in a sharp breath. It was that damn black corset that he had seen in her closet the week before. It held her ample breasts high and proud, and hugged all her curves as it tapered down to her tiny waist. She pulled no punches, did she?

"Actually…you don't need to touch my nipples for them to get hard. They're erect right now, just looking at you." She ran one of her own hands across her chest, then dipped one finger into the cup of her corset, gently stroking her own nipple. Her head fell back and she gasped lightly, drawing a similar sound from him, as well. "But I do love it when you touch them. It makes me wet, every time." She pushed the cups down, exposing herself to him. "Especially when you do it like this." She pulled her nipples and rolled them between her fingertips, and her eyes fell shut. He stared at her, entranced. Without her even touching him, the stimulation was almost unbearable.

With one hand still at her breast, she used the other to unbutton her pants and, sitting back, slowly slid out of them. Once freed, she sat spread-eagled in front of him. "When you start touching me like that, and kissing me, it's hard to control myself. My clit starts pulsing so hard I sometimes think I'm going to come just from you touching and sucking on my breasts. I wonder if that's possible? Maybe we should try it sometime."

He was staring at her darkly, and a thin sheen of sweat was visible on his forehead. Every so often, he would tug on his restraints, as if forgetting they were there. He was at the same time frustrated and hypnotized. He wouldn't stop her, because if he did he might not see what comes next.

"Honestly, I usually won't have the patience for that, though. I get too anxious to have your fingers on me, in me, and your cock inside of me. You know, it wasn't too long after we started working together that I began to think about you at night. I'd start to touch myself, and before I could stop myself I'd be thinking about you, climbing naked into my bed and just taking me, rubbing me the way I was rubbing myself. I'd pretend that they were _your _hands on me. I always felt a little guilty about it later, but it didn't stop me from doing it again the next night." Her hand trailed from her breast, down her belly. "Do you want to see how I did that, Seeley? How I touched myself when I was fantasizing about you?"

He gulped, and nodded his head.

"I thought you might." She leaned back, supporting herself on one hand. She used the other to trace one finger lightly over her aroused nub through her silky panties. She was breathing unsteadily, now, and was making little sounds in the back of her throat as she touched herself that were driving him crazy. She restrained herself for a few seconds, using the most delicate of touches as she caressed herself. Finally, she let out a long moan and laid back fully over the bed, her head dropping back over the edge while she was spread in front of him. She pulled aside the crotch of her panties, and he could see her glistening wetness. He groaned in tandem with her. She wet her fingers in her mouth, as well. "I never could last very long," she said breathily, and began to stroke her bare flesh harder, quicker. Her fingers were almost a blur against her clit. When she began to thrust two fingers of her other into opening, her hips rising and falling as she began chanting his name, he practically lost it. This was agony. Cruelty. Ecstasy.

"Temperance," he choked out. "I'm here. No more fantasy. I'm yours."

She raised her head, panting heavily, considering this. She took in his body, straining against the binds, and his cock, which really appeared to be in dire straits. She pushed herself up back into a sitting position, dizzy with desire. She came forward, pulled off his underwear. She pulled her panties aside once more, exposing her opening. She rubbed experimentally up and down his cock, once, twice, teasing herself as much as she was him. She was way too close, and so was he. Finally, with a sigh, she lifted up her hips and impaled herself on him. She whimpered. As she began to rotate her hips on top of him, she leaned forward and, with shaky hands, untied one of his wrists. The second he was free, he sat up, and grasping her hips, thrust inside of her and pulled her to him as hard as he could.

"That. Was. So. Unfair," he said with gritted teeth, punctuating his words with his thrusts. She chose not to answer, happy to allow him to take out his frustration on her throbbing sex.

It didn't take long. Both were too close to the edge, and the burning in their bodies quickly reached a fever pitch. She bounced up and down several times, forcing him in her as deep as possible while rubbing her clit frantically against his pubic bone. He felt her begin to quiver, inside and out, and with a groan of relief allowed himself to release into her. He saw flashes of light as the almost too-intense excitement rolled from his balls, to the base of his penis, and finally exploding out of him with a rocket force. They moaned and rocked together, clinging, kissing until the need for oxygen demanded their parting.

Their rocking eventually slowed to a more gentle movement. She rested her head on his shoulder. Content. A little hungry now.

Behind her, he untied the final knot from around his wrist. Pulling away from her slightly, he held the scarf up in front of her.

"Strings? Literally, Bones?"

She chuckled. "I take most things literally. You should know that."

He shook his head, continually amazed by this woman.

"You know what else?" she whispered. He shook his head. "I'm starving. Let's eat." She climbed off of him, hunting for her robe.

"I've been starving for a long time, I think," he murmured. She barely heard him. "I think I might finally be getting full."

"Found it!" she said triumphantly, holding up her robe.

He smiled. He knew that, soon, the hunger would return. But, for now, he could leave this room with his partner and his lover, starting something new again for the hundredth time that week.

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**A/N: Special thanks to Angel's Blue-Eyed Girl, who inspired me greatly with her **_**droolicious **_**pictures of DB nekkid in a bathtub. You are friggin awesome. Anyone else who has hot nekkid DB pictures can also feel free to send them my way. Heehee.**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Here you be: The first installment of Audience Participation Smut. I do hope you'll all keep sending me your ideas…I'm keeping a list. I was very pleasantly surprised by all the lurkers that the last chapter brought out of the closet. Love ya, former lurkers! Love ya, faithful reviewers! This chapter is for awilystar, who thought that sex outside might be kinda hot. Is it? We will see!**

**A little plug…I tried my hand at another story. It's…um…not smut (-hangs head in shame-). Check it out if you get a chance, and tell me if I should just stick to the hard stuff or not. It's called Into the Wild, and you can get to it through my profile page.**

**Enjoy this chapter, and, always, purty please review!**

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She had always preferred working on weekend evenings. That put her in the minority of—well, of most everyone in the universe—but nothing lent itself to concentration more than the dead silence of the empty museum on a Saturday night. Workers: all gone. Visitors: onto the D.C. nightlife. Temperance Brennan: in her element, surrounded by bones, having the luxury of all the lab space and peace and quiet she could ask for. Her own little slice of heaven.

Booth had Parker today, so Brennan took advantage of her alone time to get caught up on rest and work. As much as enjoying the intimacy and passion of their new relationship, she was not a woman who could live on sex alone. She needed this kind of mental stimulation as well, to recharge her batteries. She lost herself in the world's most challenging jigsaw puzzle: piecing together human skeletons.

By dusk, her eyes were beginning to hurt from the intense concentration towards her task, and she felt a sudden craving for fresh air. There was some more work to be done, but surely it wouldn't hurt to indulge in a little break. She had been indulging herself quite often lately, she thought a little guiltily.

Removing her lab coat, she walked through the lab and through the double doors that led to other parts of the museum. Down another hallway, and through another set of doors. Here we go. She entered the courtyard of the Jeffersonian, an oasis tucked neatly near the center of the building. Here was where workers went when they needed a break from the more sterile environment of the museum. There was grass, trees, flowers. A small pond—artificial, of course, but the sound of the small waterfall was conducive to meditation, none the less—a few benches, and a gazebo in the far corner. And of course, open air. Being the weekend, the haven was hers and hers alone.

She drew in a deep breath. It had been drizzling all day, and now was no exception. The air smelled like earth and flowers, the rain lending a sense of freshness, newness to the atmosphere. She walked hurriedly to the gazebo, which provided a bit of shelter from the shower, and sat on a bench there. She allowed herself to enjoy the warm evening and the soft sound of the rain falling on the grass, and thought about the rest of her weekend.

She would get up early the next morning, work out. Lunch with Angela at noon. Maybe a little shopping after that, if Ange's question-and-answer session didn't last too long. Go home, work on the next chapter of her book. In the evening, after Parker was picked up, maybe Booth would come over and spend the evening with her.

Booth. Her stomach did a little flip at the thought of him, and she shook her head in amusement at her reaction. Surely, he couldn't possibly be as good in bed as she was perceiving him to be. He was, after all, just a man. An incredibly sensitive, handsome, and sexy man, but just a man none the less. But somehow, just the thought of him made her pulse race a little, and every time he touched her or kissed her, her body reacted as if he were all the wet dreams she had ever had rolled into one. It was ridiculous, really.

The ring of her phone interrupted her thoughts. She glanced at the caller ID. Speak of the devil.

"Dr. Temperance Brennan, sex goddess, at your service," she answered.

He chuckled. "Now, that's just plain cruel."

"You've been accusing me of that a lot lately. I'm surprised that you even want to talk to me anymore."

"That's true," he said seriously. "I'm pretty sure you must have put a spell on me or something. Something that keeps me coming back for more."

She smiled, familiar with the feeling. "How's Parker?"

"Parker is great. Although, unfortunately, he's not great with me at the moment. I've already dropped him off."

"I thought you had him until tomorrow morning."

"I usually do, but Rebecca and Drew are taking him on a vacation, and they are leaving early tomorrow morning. I figured it would be easier on the poor kid to sleep at home, so he didn't have to get up quite so early."

"That was nice of you. Sorry your time got cut short, though. I know how much you enjoy having him."

"Yeah, it's disappointing. That's why I stopped by the lab on the way back, so you could comfort me. But, although your car is here…this place appears to be like a cemetery tonight."

"You're here?" Surprised.

"Yup. Where are you?"

"Come up the stairs on the opposite side of the parking garage, use your key to get in, and walk down the hallway. I'll open the door for you.

"K, Ms. Mystery."

She hung up the phone, feeling almost giddy. 'Relax, Temperance. It's just your partner. The same man who she had seen almost daily for the past two years,' she thought. 'Yup, just your partner.' But he was also the man whose fingers knew exactly how to stroke her on the inside while his mouth did the most wonderful things to her clit. And also the man who let out that almost primal groan in the back of his throat right before he was about to come, that sound that made her feel so wanton and wanted at the same time, that sound that almost always pushed her over the edge even if she had just climaxed seconds before…

She saw a shadow pass the barely-open blinds of the window, and had to shake off her daydreams. She darted across the courtyard. The rain was falling a little more heavily now, and dark spots peppered her clothing where the raindrops hit her. She pushed the door open. "Over here," she beckoned. He turned to her and grinned.

Laughing, she grabbed his hand and pulled him out through the courtyard. They dashed together towards the gazebo. Once they reached it, he turned to face her, grinning. He stroked his hair, evenly distributing the dampness through it. He used his other hand to do the same to her hair. They were pretty well soaked.

"Only you, Bones. The one time you take a break from work to go outside, it's when it's raining out." He looked around. "It's nice out here. How come you never brought me here before?"

She shrugged. "Like you said, I don't take many breaks." She rested her hands on the banister, allowing the rain to hit her fingertips where she wasn't covered by the roof of the gazebo. "I kind of like it better when it rains. There're less people then. And it always smells so good. Like new things, you know?"

He wrapped his arms around her from behind, pulling her close and rested his head on her shoulder. "New things are great." She smiled. "I loved spending the day with my son. But I still missed you." She tilted her head and rest it against his, and covered his hands with her own. "When can we all spend some time together?"

He felt her stiffen just a bit in his arms, and he relaxed his grip around her. She turned around, facing him, placing her hands on his strong arms. "I don't know, Booth." She looked down shyly. "That just seems so…big. I mean, your son is the most important part of your life. And this is so new…I just don't want to rush into anything."

"You're right. He is the most important part of my life." He lifted her chin up so she'd look him in the eye. "That's why I think it's important that he get familiar with one of the other most important parts of my life."

Blood seemed to rush to her head much too fast, making her feel slightly dizzy. She leaned back on the banister a bit to steady herself and support some of her weight. "That's really nice, Booth." She took a deep breath. "Almost too nice. You know?" Her eyes begged for understanding.

"I get it." He leaned forward to her lips for the lightest of kisses. "Just think about it, ok?"

She touched his face gently. "I will. I promise." She smiled. "So…what would you like to do for the rest of the night? I was planning on packing things up at the lab soon."

"Actually…I wouldn't mind staying here for awhile. Listening to the rain."

She looked at him incredulously. "Really?" She looked around the dimly lit, secluded courtyard. "Why?"

He advanced on her with a devilish look in his eye. "Because I think you look sexy when you're wet." He wiped the amused smile off her face with another kiss. This time, he took the opportunity to really taste her. Pressing her body up against the banister, he held her flush against him as he rubbed his lips against hers. She responded instantly, her tongue finding his and licking it lightly, almost mischievously, before she began exploring his mouth in earnest. He felt hot. Wet. Exciting. Warmth flooded her body, and she felt a little weak again. Hadn't she just been thinking that it was crazy to respond like this, to just a kiss? If that was true, she was officially certifiable.

He kissed her across her jaw line to her ear, swirling his tongue gently around the shell before kissing the spot right behind her earlobe that always made her shiver. She quivered lightly in his arms, and he smiled. Jackpot. She tasted like rainwater and jasmine. He was hungry again. Big time.

She leaned her head back to give him access to her throat, again partly out from under the shelter. Water dripped off the rooftop into her hair, traveling down her back, and shoulders. When he took the time to lick every singular droplet, she found that she didn't mind. Their wet clothes did little to disguise their wanting of each other. She could feel the outline of his hardness pressing against her through his pants and her wet, clinging skirt. He could feel her erect nipples pressing against his chest through both their shirts. All these stimuli kindled the fire in them until it was almost unbearable. He moved his hands to the front of her and caressed her nipples through the damp fabric. The stimulation from his fingers and the material and the wetness caused a little shock to go through her, and he was rewarded with a low moan. Her fingers moved across his body to everywhere she could reach in her somewhat constricted position. One hand found the outline of his straining erection through his pants, and she traced it lightly before squeezing it. His eyes fell shut and he pressed desperately into her hand.

"You realize we're outside, don't you?" she gasped, as his hand pushed up the wet hem of her skirt. It stayed in place easily, held by the weight of the soaked fabric. He feverishly stroked her inner thighs.

"Yeah. You wanna stop?" The question was mostly a courtesy. A herd of wild animals probably couldn't stop him now.

"Huh-uhh." Her ability to form words was taken away by his mouth on hers. The rain was falling harder, now, and blowing lightly; the meager shelter that the gazebo roof provided was mostly ineffectual now. It didn't matter.

He lifted her up so she sat on the banister, his lips on her the entire time. She quickly angled her body so that part of it could lean against one of the supports that led up to the gazebo rooftop. She lifted one leg and put her foot on the banister, to stabilize herself.

He pushed her skirt up higher; she closed her eyes. For a second he was gone, and she missed the warmth of his mouth on hers. Then, she felt him pull her panties aside, and his mouth was at a different place on her body, and all rational thought left her.

She moaned and grasped at the support, making sure she wouldn't fall backward because of the pleasure. The spray of the rain tickled her back, her face, her upper body, while her partner's tongue tickled her clit and slid between her sensitive folds. She used the strength of her foot on the banister to thrust towards his mouth, her head falling backwards as she whimpered her approval to his hot, lapping tongue.

Finally, she ran one hand through his hair and urged him up. "No more," she gasped. "I think it might kill me. It's too good." He stood up and kissed her wetly once more, and on his mouth she could taste herself and the rain.

"How do you do this to me?" he asked her, looking her in the eyes as one trembling hand undid his belt and his zipper. "How do you get me so hot for you?" Still holding the support with one hand, she tried her best to help him lower his pants right below his ass. He grabbed that hand and pressed it against his groin. "Do you feel that? That's what you do." She gave it a few strokes, and then grabbed his ass and pulled him up against her.

"Now," she half-whispered, half-whimpered. "I want you now."

He wouldn't deny her. Wrapping one arm around her waist, and looping the other under the thigh of her propped-up leg, he buried his face in her dripping throat as he thrust between her waiting folds. She practically weeped at the feeling. She couldn't move much herself in her position or risk falling, so she trusted him to take over, playing her body like an instrument he had studied for a very long time. He thrust up and into her, at the same time pulling her waist and hips towards him for the maximum sensation. The wet material of her panties, still on, rubbed against her clit, giving her a unique and titillating thrill every time he drove into her.

With the wetness of the rain and her mouth and her tight sheath pulsing against him, he could hardly tell the difference between what parts of him were in her or on her or merely exposed to the elements. The sensations seemed to be everywhere.

"Just a little more, Seeley," she gasped breathily. Hearing her say his name increased his ardor, and he pulled her to him extra tightly. "Yes…just like that. Fill me up. God, yes."

Her words were like a trigger for him, and if she hadn't already begun her own orgasm, he would have been very disappointed at himself for losing all control at the sound of her voice. They cried out in unison. She wasn't sure if she was coming or drowning, and she didn't really care. The feeling of him pulsing inside of her, filling her up, rejuvenated the delicious spasms that spread from her womb down to all the other parts of her sex. She let go of the support; thankfully, he was holding her firmly in place or else she would have tumbled backwards for sure. Allowing the last of the tremors to course through them, they took a few last gulps of air. Then, with his hands on her hips he gently lifted her off the banister and set her on her feet, smoothing down her skirt and then lifting his own pants. He leaned toward her, one hand supporting himself on the rail. She leaned backwards against it, catching her breath. They stared at each other, dripping with rain from head to toe, each aware that something had just happened that was so intense, it was a little overwhelming.

She finally spoke. "I'm not really sure what to say." She laughed breathily.

"Yeah. I'm running out of words to describe this. I don't think my vocabulary is big enough for it." They looked at each other in mutual understanding. There were the things they couldn't say because there didn't appear to be the words for it. There were things they didn't say because, somehow, the words didn't seem adequate. Then there were the other things that they didn't say because…well…it was still a little too scary to say them.

He smiled at her. "Think we should probably go in and dry off, huh?"

"Yeah. One of these days, one of our escapades is going to give us pneumonia. Or get us a citation. One of the two."

He put his arm around her. "It just might be worth it."

They walked slowly back through the courtyard to the Jeffersonian. Each hoped that somehow, the rain would help to wash their fears away.

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**A/N: Who's your daddy? The review button is! Hit it and I will drown you in online kisses. Or, if that's not your thing—a firm online handshake.**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: The **_**second **_**installment of audience-participation smut. This chapter is for Sarali (did you get my email, Sarali?) and BonesDBChippie, the latter of whom made my head explode with her **_**friggin hot DB/ED pictures. **_**I died. Literally. Then came back to life just so I could write this chapter for her. I hope it lives up to everything in your imagination! The rest of you with your creative ideas…don't worry, they are still on my list.**

**Enjoy!**

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In her dreams, she was in the lab. It was a Monday morning, bright and sunshiny, and the beams burst through the skylight, giving everything a special radiance. She never dreaded Mondays. This was her home.

But something was amiss; there were no people. The place should have been bustling, her colleagues should have been surrounding her, demanding her attention. But, there was no one.

She was a little bewildered, but not completely surprised. The lab equipment and the bones were sturdy, stable…reliable. But people… Well, not quite so much. And, especially, things tended not to bode so well for the people _she_ cared about. So, this sudden desertion wasn't totally unexpected.

She arose and drifted towards her bone room. People, she had no control over. Bones, though…they always had answers. And she always found them.

Awakening from this dream was a struggle. It was one of those times when consciousness felt like a far-away destination, and she had to practically claw and fight to reach it. Even once she did, she felt a little disoriented. Knowing that allowing herself to drift off again would again suck her into her dream, she decided to get up.

She was at Booth's apartment, in his bed. Sunday morning. _Not _Monday. She carefully disentangled herself from him, so as not to wake him, then went on a hunt around the room for her clothes. They were finally dry, at least. She started to pull them on.

"Where do you think you are going?" His voice was still raspy with sleep. She looked over at him. The sheet barely covered his hips. He stretched, then crossed his hands behind his head, gazing at her with a lazy smile.

He was so sexy. Damn the man.

She turned away, and clasped her bra and slid on her shirt. "I'm going to go work out before meeting up with Angela. I've got to stop at my place first to get my stuff."

"Work out?" He raised his eyebrows. "Apparently, I didn't do my job last night."

She smirked. "You did your job fine. I have _other _muscles that need exercising, you know."

"Not as far as I'm concerned." She still wasn't looking at him. "Hey. Everything ok?"

"Sure. I just have a bunch of stuff that I want to do today, and I don't want to spend all morning just laying around."

"We don't have to lay. We can stand. Sit. Or kneel. Whatever you want."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm going, Booth." She paused, and finally glanced back at him. "Maybe we can meet up later tonight?"

"Yeah. That sounds good." He was staring at her.

"Great. I'll see you then." She turned to go.

"Whoa, whoa. I don't get a kiss?"

She gave a dramatic sigh, feigning annoyance. Walking over to the bed, she bent over and lightly touched her lips to his. Not letting her get away that easily, he put his hand on the back of her head and held her there a moment longer, kissing her thoroughly.

They parted, and he smiled at her. "Have fun at the gym. And say hi to Angela for me."

"Will do." She started out the door.

"Hey."

She turned back. "Yes?"

"I'll miss you."

She half-smiled. Enigmatically. "'Til later."

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She had practically felt his eyes boring holes in her back as she left, concerned. Increasing the incline on the treadmill, she picked up her pace, feet pounding. She hadn't meant to seem cold; she had just been feeling a little out-of-sorts. She wasn't even completely sure why she felt that way. Her morning's dream flickered in her mind. That didn't make any sense, though—it was just a dream. It wasn't even a nightmare, and she had had her fair share of those in her lifetime. Nonetheless, it was hard to shake off the vaguely disturbed feeling that she had awoken with. She again increased her speed, trying to outrun her own thoughts and feelings.

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At home, after her shower, she was trying very hard to adhere to her plan of writing for at least 3 hours. Typically, her stories flowed from her brain to the computer screen easily, if not effortlessly. Today, her muse was not quite so forthcoming.

She would blame it on staying up late the previous night, and on her particularly exhausting lunch with Angela. She had remained patient, remembering her promise to her friend to tell her the details and answer her questions. No, he was _not _her boyfriend, but they were in a relationship. Yes, the sex _was _amazing, fantastical, orgasmic. Yes, his—equipment—measured up just fine, thank you very much. And no, you _still _cannot start picking out china patterns.

After two hours of such questioning, she had felt pumped dry. "Angela," she had half-laughed, half-groaned. "I have nothing left to give." Her friend frowned and chided her for not being more excited about this monumental change. She hated to disappoint Ange, but she simply did not _know _the answers to some of her questions.

And now, as she sat at her desk with her cursor blinking mockingly at her, frustration filled her. She was a genius, brilliant. But there were some days when it seemed like she just didn't know very much at all.

She was grateful when the phone rang, as it gave her an excuse to abandon her computer. "Hi, Booth."

"No 'Sex Goddess' today?"

"I'm afraid the sex goddess has left the building today. The starving artist has taken her place."

"Aah. Well, would the starving artist like some company?"

"Perhaps."

"Then maybe she should come to the door."

Bemused, she hung up the phone and went to the door, looking through the peephole. Sure enough.

She opened the door. "What would have you done if I said I didn't want any company?"

He ignored her question, walking into her kitchen and dropping the items he was carrying on the counter. He had a 6-pack of beer, and a small paper bag. And, a rose. He turned and presented it to her with a flourish.

She smiled. "You brought me a flower? How…like a man of you."

"I'm all man. Get used to it." He winked. "Besides, it accomplished my mission perfectly. That was the first real smile I saw out of you all day."

She looked down at the flower, a little embarrassed and not quite sure what to say.

He grabbed two beers. With his arm around her shoulder, he guided her to the living room. "C'mon." They sat down, sipped their beers. Talked about their days. She sympathized with him for being called into work on a weekend to do some consulting on a case. He laughed as she recounted her grill session with Angela.

He regarded her curiously. She was sitting just a little too far away from him. Her smile didn't quite reach her eyes.

"So what's going on, Bones? I get the feeling that you're a little off today."

"Off what?"

"It's an expression. Off-kilter. Not yourself."

She looked down at her hand as her fingernails absently scratched the material of the couch. "I don't know. Maybe."

"Why don't you tell me what's 'maybe' going on, then?"

She forced herself to meet his eyes. "I guess…I've just been thinking…"

"Uh-oh. Maybe I _don't _want to know then," he teased.

She ignored him. "I've just been thinking…we've been spending a whole lot of time together lately. Like…we said we wanted our own apartments? But we sleep over most every night."

"Yes?" he said. Perplexed.

"And…now Angela knows about us, so other people will too, soon. And I wonder if that will cause any problems. You know, people thinking we can't do our jobs because we're personally involved."

He opened his mouth to speak, but she barreled ahead, on a roll now. "And you have a _child. _That's just crazy to me. I don't know anything about kids. I was barely even ever a kid myself. Of course you want the person you are dating to get to know your son. But I have no idea even how to do that."

His expression was unreadable. "What are you saying, Bones?"

She eyes turned downwards.

"Are you saying that we shouldn't be together anymore? That you don't want to be with me?"

Her eyes rolled back and she looked towards the ceiling, anxiously pulling on her hair. "No, that's not it."

"Then what _is _it?"

"I don't know," she said, frustrated. "I don't even know where all this is coming from. I just feel so…"

"Out of control?" he asked softly. She looked at him, wondering. "You felt it too, didn't you? Last night in the courtyard. After we ma-." He cut himself off. "After we…you know. It felt like the storm wasn't just outside anymore. It was inside us, too."

"It felt like a hurricane," she whispered.

He moved closer to her, pulled her to him. Her head rested on his shoulder.

"I don't know, Booth. I have learned some very unfortunate lessons about what happens when people get too important to me. It usually doesn't turn out very well." She sighed, shakily. "The closer we get…the deeper into this we go…the more I feel like I'm rapidly losing my grip on everything around me. When something's out of my hands, I feel crazy. I don't like feeling crazy. So you are right. I feel out of control."

"And you feel like you are losing it to me." Her silence indicated her assent.

He was quiet for a moment, stroking her hair. He finally spoke. "Do you remember the last night we were here?" She nodded. "We were in bed. You tied me up."

Despite her current discomfort, she felt a little rush of heat run through her body at the memory.

"Why did you do that?"

She laughed a little. "To make you squirm. To make you hot. So that I could be…" She suddenly recognized what he was getting at. "Be in control."

"Ah. Smart girl. And I gave it to you, didn't I? And you did the most wonderful things with it."

She flushed lightly. He lifted her chin to look at him.

"Now. Can you give me the same privilege? Can you trust me?"

She blinked. "Are we talking about sex anymore?"

He laughed softly. "Maybe, for a start. But eventually…more generally."

Looking at him seriously, she whispered, "I want to trust you."

He leaned forward and kissed her. Her lips felt soft, delicate. He knew that she was not soft _or _delicate. But he wanted her to know that with him, she could be vulnerable.

"Let's start tonight," he breathed, stroking the smooth skin of her face with his fingertips. "Will you do what I ask you to do? Will you trust me to do what I want with you?"

Her eyes widened and she felt a stirring inside her that could have been arousal or fear. "I don't know if I can do that, Booth."

His fingertips trailed down her throat and ran lightly over the swell of her breast. "Please, Temperance. Trust me. Show me you can trust me."

She mewled softly as her body responded to his touch. Her heart was pounding, and she felt just a little faint. She knew that she could trust Booth…he had proved that to her time and time again. But somehow, making that trust absolute—being at his mercy—felt terrifying. _"It felt like a hurricane," _she had told him of her emotions in the gazebo the night before. She always held on, through any storm. Now, he was asking her to allow herself to be swept away.

It wouldn't work. Their relationship wouldn't work, unless she learned how to do this.

She swallowed hard. "Ok." Her mouth felt ridiculously dry.

"You mean it?"

"Let's go before I change my mind."

He smiled, gently. "Let's try to make that the last order I take from you tonight." He stood, and offered her his hand. After a hesitation, she took it. He looked at her, with tenderness. Then, he led her to the bedroom.

He sat on the bed before her, and looked at her so hotly she felt she might melt. She wanted to say something, but she bit her lip. She had promised to trust him.

"Undress." One word, and it was not a question. Her hands, shaking a bit, crossed in front of her and pulled her top over her head. Next, her pants. Then, after a pause, her bra.

She could feel his eyes raking over her, hungrily. "Everything. Take off everything."

She reached her fingertips under her panties and peeled them off her body. She stood before him. Exposed. Vulnerable. His face showed desire, and almost in spite of itself, her body responded, nipples stiffening.

"Turn around, and close your eyes"

She rotated slowly. Now, she couldn't see him. A second later, she could _feel _him, though. He must be standing right behind her. Although he wasn't touching her, she could feel the heat pouring off of him. For an almost intolerable minute, she stood there, fighting the urge to spin around and touch him.

Then, she felt it. Whisper light, a band of silky material fell around her eyes. It was tied gently behind her head. Reason told her it was likely the same scarf that she had used to bind his hands the previous night. She had left it on the bureau. Now, it blindfolded her, cutting off one of her most important senses.

She heard and felt him shift around her, so he was standing in front of her. She felt his fingers lightly graze her hips, and she gasped. "Move back." He guided her until she felt the back of her legs hit the bed. "Lie down."

She did as he said. She was trembling, every nerve in her body on high alert. She was quickly losing the ability to distinguish her apprehension from her growing arousal. They both set her heart pumping, quickened her breathing, and sensitized her body almost painfully.

"Arms up." She knew what was coming, and oh, this was the hardest part, the complete submission, and another wave of sensation rolled through her body. She was sure he could hear her pounding pulse. She raised her arms slowly, and crossed her wrists above her head, whimpering softly (with fear? with desire?) as she felt the material being wrapped around them. What was it? Maybe his tie. It didn't matter now; it was firmly securing her in place. She was helpless.

Suddenly, his breath was at her ear. "Wait." Wait? For what? She heard him move, and footsteps as he walked away. A moment of panic struck her. He couldn't leave her like this, couldn't go away. She forced herself to take deep, calming breaths. 'Trust,' she thought to herself like a mantra. Of course, he wasn't going to leave her.

Seconds ticked past, and she started to squirm, her anticipation excruciating. Her ears strained for any clue of his whereabouts.

The touch was unexpected, and she gasped, goosebumps immediately covering her skin. She had not heard him return. After the initial contact, her body relaxed, just a bit. Something was being trailed across the sensitive skin of her belly. What was it? It was not his fingers…not warm enough. It trailed down her hip and onto her thigh. She instinctively spread her legs a bit. It was smooth, silky. Erotic. It had just a little bit of weight to it. She moved restlessly as it was dragged down one leg, teasing the delicate skin of her inner thigh, and up the other. Slowly, up her stomach once more. Across her chest, circling her breasts. Each touch was tantalizing, soft. Tortuous. Up her throat to caress her face. It ran across her cheek, and recognition dawned on her. The rose. She could smell its sweet scent. It was again brought down her body. This time, he allowed it to drag across her nipples. She moaned softly, with frustration. The touch was sweet, arousing…but not enough. Her body was starting to feel hot all over. Typically when she began to feel like this, she began to kiss him feverishly, greedily seeking pressure over her most sensitive areas. Right now, that was impossible. She arched into the touch, but it remained light, fleeting. She whimpered a bit as the rose continued to stroke her breasts, then the mound above her sex. "I need more…please," she begged.

Suddenly, the caress was gone. Another moment of anxiety while she wondered where he was, and where the next touch would come from. Suddenly, she could smell his scent more strongly, and feel him on either side of her. He was straddling her hips. She pushed up, hoping for more contact, but he denied her.

"Are you hot?" His voice was raspy, thick with wanting.

"Yes. So hot." He could tell. The fair skin across her entire body was flushed.

"Let's cool you down." She wondered about his meaning for only a split second before her first, sharp gasp. The ice was traced around her lips first, before, trapped in the palm of his hand, it was slid down the column of her neck. The coldness was at once exhilarating and shocking. All of her nerve endings seemed to be singing, not understanding the dichotomy between her hot flesh and the freezing ice. He stroked her whole body this way. The ice immediately began to melt against her, and the wet trails they created soothed her burning flesh. She bit back a scream when he circled her nipples; they hardened almost painfully. After shocking her with the coldness, he immediately took the erect nub in his mouth. The first time he touched her since this little game began. Her body reeled from the conflicting sensations. Her nipples were throbbing in a way they never had before.

"Tell me how it feels," he demanded. His mouth was following his hand and the ice everywhere they went, soothing away her shivers with his lips.

"I don't know," she whimpered. "It feels good. But it's too much." Her hips were thrusting up off the bed. He slid the ice up her body and across her face again. He dropped what was left of it into her mouth, and immediately attacked her lips with his own. The ice melted in their searing kiss. His freezing cold hand stroked through the wetness on her body and covered her between her legs. Her body reacted violently to the hotcold sensation and she trembled uncontrollably as he stroked her clit and kissed her mouth. She was on the verge of something huge. She didn't know if it was an orgasm or an explosion.

"No!" She cried out as he pulled back from her, removing both his mouth and his hand from her body. She jerked in frustration.

"Sshh. I make the rules tonight." His statement both angered and excited her. He was in control, he was right. There was nothing she could do about it. She shook with desire.

For another second, he was away from her again, but back again in a flash. She heard a sound: humming. Oh, God. She would know that sound anywhere. A vibrator. _Where the hell did he get a vibrator? _She remembered the mysterious paper bag that he had brought in along with the beer, and suddenly had idea about where he had gone that minute after he first tied her up. She wondered what, exactly, he had had planned for this night, before even coming over.

She braced herself for what she knew was coming. The buzzing got louder, and she felt the first touch across her chest. "I need you to do something for me." His voice was raspy. He stroked the vibrator across her breasts, and she moaned. "I know where you want this." Now, along the undersides of her breasts and her stomach. "I want to give that to you." Across her mound, then diverting down the tops of her legs. "But you've got to promise. No coming until I say you are allowed."

She was almost crying. "You bastard."

"Promise me, Temperance." He stroked it across her inner thighs.

"I promise!" she gasped. "Please."

"Good girl. Spread your legs." The anticipation almost hurt. It was only seconds, but it felt like forever until, kissing her gently, he finally touched the vibrator to her clit. She cried out. He knew exactly what he was doing, at first barely touching her, allowing only the softest of pulsations to travel through her body. Gradually, he increased the pressure, at the same time upping the intensity of his kiss. She was groaning and bucking off the bed.

"Not yet, Temperance. Hold on for me for just a little while." He released some of the pressure.

"I don't know if I can," she sobbed. Her sex was pounding, begging for release, protesting the over-stimulation that she had received on this night. She couldn't see him, couldn't touch him, and it was driving her crazy.

"Yes, you can. You will. Wait.

She was thrashing as much as her binds would allow, biting her lips. It was like holding back a tidal wave. Or a hurricane. "Seeley! Please please please please please…"

"Just a little bit more." He adjusted himself so that he had full access to her. "I want to feel it when you come."

He inserted two fingers inside of her. He could feel her inner walls twitching. The poor girl thrust against his fingers, desperately. Now was the time when he made her trust in him worth it. He pressed the vibrator down harder on her clit.

"Ok, babe. It's all yours. Come for me."

For a second all the sounds that she had been making stopped, and there was no sound in the room except for the buzzing of the vibrator and his own ragged breathing.

Then she screamed. She rose almost completely off the bed (which was impressive, considering her current, bound position) and began shaking so hard that it was difficult to hold the vibrator in place. Her orgasm crashed violently through her body, erasing all the frustration and anger and fear she had had up until this moment. She cried out again and again, and he felt her constrict around his fingers furiously. When her hips began to slowly lower and the contractions subsided, he slowed his fingers and released the pressure on the vibrator until her groans turned to whimpers. Then…he pressed down again, stroking her furiously with his fingers. Her head fell back as the unexpected re-initiation of sensation turned her body, again, into a quivering mess. He again felt her pulse around him. There was no almost about it now, she was crying. Nothing had ever felt like this, ever before.

It was the most erotic thing that he had ever seen. He had set out to prove that good things could happen when she gave up control. He hadn't expected to be so affected himself. Turning his attention inward, he realized that he was shaking, too. He looked at her. She was still moaning softly, lying limply now. Submitted.

He felt a surge of emotion so strong that it took his breath away. "Temperance." He turned off the vibrator and tossed it aside. He moved to untie her, but found it almost impossible with his trembling hands. When he finally worked the knot open, her hands fell to her sides. He cupped her face in his hands, kissed her. Pushed the blindfold off from over her eyes. They were still closed.

"God, please. Look at me."

Her eyes opened. They were glistening, and he saw something in them that he couldn't identify. Was it her hurricane? The one she was so afraid of? He was suddenly, for the first time that night, unsure. What if he had hurt her? What if, in taking away her control, he took away the very thing that she needed to keep going? He brushed one of her tears away with his thumb. He thought he might cry, too.

"Thank you." She said it so softly that he hardly heard it. But when he did, the relief he felt almost knocked him over.

"Thank _you._" He kissed the spots where her tears had fallen. "You are so incredible. So beautiful. Thank you."

She was staring at him. "Seeley. Can I ask for something now?"

"Yes. You earned it." He smiled at her.

"Make love to me."

He kissed her hard so that she wouldn't see the tears that fell at her words, but she saw them anyway. She didn't take her eyes off of him. She had been blind, but now she could see. She had been bound, but now she was set free. As they came together, she kissed him tenderly.

The storm was over.

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**A/N: I don't really have to ask anymore, do I? You know what I crave! The more reviews I get, the more motivated I am to write!**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: A couple people have asked me, in one form or another, the following question: How do you come up with this stuff? Since you asked, here is answer. I have a problem. I try to get work done, and can't. I lie in bed awake at night thinking about it. My poor fiancé rolls over and asks me, "What are you thinking about?" And the answer is, almost always, "Smut." So there you have it. It's terribly sad, really.**

**After the emotional stuff of the past few chapters, this one's to let them have a little fun. This one combines the influence of a couple different readers. The naughtiness in the car is for 2Bfan. A variation of the "just out of sight" idea is for DemonicAyngel. Last but not least, I Hart Booth…you know what part is for you (wink, wink).**

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She was sulking. He knew intimately the patented Bones pout: angled away from him in the car, staring out the window, arms crossed, fending off his best attempts at charm with monosyllabic replies. When it came to getting under his skin, the woman knew her stuff.

Finally, he relented. "Bones, I'm sorry for asking you to leave the interrogation room. It's not like I didn't think you were making good observations. It's just…this guy needed a little finesse."

She looked over at him, frostily. "I don't have finesse?"

Big sigh. "It's not that you, in general, don't have finesse. But you gotta know guys like that…he's a slimeball. Thinks he's God's gift, and the way to get him to talk is to play into that, act friendly, interested. Get his trust. You can't just go insulting him and accusing him right off the bat, slime or not." He gave a conciliatory smile in her direction before turning his attention back to the road. "Sometimes, you can catch more flies with honey, you know?"

She gave him a blank look. "Why would you use honey to catch flies?"

"It means, sometimes you can accomplish more by being sweet than by being…the way you were being."

She felt better with his explanation, but wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of a complete turn-around. "Well. I'm sorry I'm not sweet."

"Hey. No one knows better than I do that you can be sweet." He tiptoed his fingers up her knee to midthigh, and gave her a tickle there. She tried unsuccessfully to suppress a laugh. He grinned triumphantly at the sound.

He squeezed her leg. "Maybe later we can go home and practice. I can be the unscrupulous yet charming suspect. You can be the cop who gets the information from me with any means necessary."

She raised her eyebrows. "Hot," she deadpanned. He chuckled, and reluctantly, she joined him.

They fell into a companionable silence. He glanced at her every so often just to check on the status of her previous annoyance, and was eventually satisfied that it had subsided. He wondered if she had been truly angry with him at all; somewhere along the line, their verbal sparring had become, more than anything, a tradition in their partnership. Almost as if, every so often, they needed to prove their stubbornness to the other. She got him worked up, frustrated him, but in the end he had to admit that she kept him sharp and on his game. From the back of his mind came the question of what he would do if he no longer had her to fight with, and he had to shake off the sharp pang that the thought incited in his gut.

She shifted her position, crossing her legs, and her skirt rode up exposing a swatch of her creamy thigh. Catching a glimpse of this, he swallowed thickly. He was almost immediately semi-erect. 'Get a grip, Seel,' he told himself. 'It's not like you're a teenager who's never seen a little skin before.' Funny thing was, that was exactly how he had felt for the past few weeks. He had no idea how he had managed to keep his hands off his partner for as long as he did. However he maintained that control in the past few years, that dam burst as soon as he experienced the full force of her sexual energy. Now, just a look, a gentle touch, smelling her scent…any of those simple stimuli was enough to make him nearly wild with desire.

She caught him looking at her, and followed his path of his vision to her bare flesh. Amusedly, she readjusted herself and smiled. "Keep your eyes on the road."

Embarrassed, he refocused. "Sorry," he muttered. "You distract me."

"I thought we weren't going to let ourselves be distracted by this," she chided gently.

"At work, we said." He shifted in his seat, trying to get comfortable. "We're not at work right now. We are in the car. If I want to get a hard-on for you while we are in the car, I'm allowed."

A peek over at his own lap, indeed, confirmed his situation. She felt some delight course through her, but repressed it.

"Well, if that's how you feel…" She took his hand and placed it, once more, on her thigh, this time under the hem of her skirt. She heard his sharp intake of breath, and then he pulled his hand away as if he had been burned.

"I said I was allowed to have a hard-on. I didn't say that _you _were allowed to exacerbate it."

Her hand moved to his own leg, and began to trace little circles against his thigh with her fingertip. "Maybe I'm not trying to exacerbate it. Maybe I'm trying to help you." She gently massaged his upper leg, moving dangerously close to the bulge in his pants. "Maybe I'm trying to catch flies. With honey."

His hands gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. "You are an evil, evil person. You know that?"

She frowned. "That's the pot calling the kettle black."

He was momentarily surprised that she knew _that_ expression, but the thought flew out the window as one of her fingernails scraped lightly down the form of the erection in his pants. He was now completely hard, and fighting to keep his attention on the road.

"Jesus, Bones." She looked at him a little expectantly, but he did not ask her to stop, as she thought he would. Taking his silence as an invitation to continue, and she squeezed the hot, hard bulge, as he struggled to keep his eyes open and the car in a straight line.

Her dexterous fingers easily unbuttoned and unzippered his pants; she reached in and adjusted him to a more comfortable position, and began to stroke. "It's almost lunchtime. You want to stop at the diner before going back to work?"

Unbelievable. She was talking about food while giving him the most excruciatingly slow handjob of his life. He wheezed out a breath.

"Or…we could just stop at my apartment and grab something. I'm tired of eating at the lab." She removed her hand for a moment, licked her palm, and went back to work, her hand now gliding smoothly up and down his shaft.

His eyes were now fixed straight ahead. If he looked at her, or looked down to see what her hand was doing to him, he was going to wreck. No doubt about it. Meanwhile, his penis was loudly demanding sex, right here, right now, seemingly unaware (could he blame it?) that they were in a moving car. It was effectively silencing his ability to think rationally, although he did, for a second, silently thank God for the tinted windows in his car.

Her own face was nonchalant as she stroked him, betraying nothing. "Booth? Aren't you going to talk to me?" Her fingers constricted around him extra hard, while her thumb swiped the head of his cock on the upstroke.

Between clenched teeth, he told her, "You'll have to forgive me, but when your hand is in my crotch I rapidly lose the ability to speak in complete sentences."

"Oh, I see. Sorry." She let go of him and took her hand from his lap. His head flew around and he looked at her, with desperation, before he was forced to again look ahead. She felt a twinge of self-satisfaction. Maybe she didn't need to be in control, all of the time. But sometimes, it was just _so much fun _to have the upper hand. So to speak.

"So that's it? You're just going to leave me hanging."

"Hmm. That wouldn't be very nice of me, would it?"

His penis throbbed, begging for attention. "At this point, I don't really know."

She was quiet for a moment, and he wondered if this was his punishment for his apparent faux pas in the interrogation room. Then, he felt it. That mouth. That wonderful, hot, wet mouth with the talented tongue that never failed to milk him dry, even when he thought that there couldn't possibly be anything left inside him. He had yet to last through her going down on him. Every time, his last thought was that he should really tell her to stop so he could lift her up and pound her senseless; that was right before the sensation overwhelmed him and he exploded into her mouth. Not that it mattered. If she really wanted to, she could have him erect and ready again in another 5 minutes. Crazy.

Now, she nursed on him slowly, leisurely. As if they weren't in a car going 65 miles per hour. She sucked her way slowly up the underbelly of his cock, and flickered her tongue across his frenulum before engulfing the glans completely in her mouth. He gasped, and his hand went instinctively to the back of her head, urging her on.

From somewhere came the sound of muffled ringing. It was her cell phone, which was currently located in her purse on the floor in front of her.

"Ignore it," he rasped. Without moving off of him, she nodded her head.

After several rings, the call went to voice mail, a beep indicating that a message had been left. Almost immediately after that, Booth's phone began to ring. He groaned in frustration.

She lifted up just long enough to say, "Somebody's trying to reach us. Could be important," before again enveloping him between her impossibly soft lips.

Muttering, he had to make several attempts to locate his phone and unclip it from his hip with slightly trembling hands. He hit the 'answer' key on the last ring.

"Yeah. Booth." He was sure that he probably sounded completely brusque and rude to the person on the other end. He didn't care.

"Booth?" Shit. "It's Cam. Everything ok?"

"Yeah. Yeah. Everything's…" He sucked in a sharp breath between his lips as the good doctor sucked especially hard while squeezing his balls at the same time. "Fine. Everything's fine."

"I tried to call Dr. Brennan and couldn't reach her. Is she around?"

"She's around. She's just…occupied with something. You want me to give her a message?" His hips were beginning to propel off the seat, trying to drive into her mouth as far as possible. He needed to get off the phone as soon as possible. He was definitely a driving hazard right now.

"Yes. After examining the victim, Zack determined that the attacker was likely a male, about 5'11'', likely with some kind of previous injury in his left wrist. Does that sound the guy you've got?"

With effort, he repeated what she had said. Brennan excitedly lifted her head. "That's right on!" He nudged her head back down again.

"Yeah, sounds like our guy. With that data, we should be able to hold him…back…until we get some more material evidence." He bit back a moan. "That's a great feeling…that he'll be off the streets soon."

"Yeah, that's fantastic. Is Dr. Brennan going to be coming back to the lab now? There's a few more analyses that we could really use her input on."

"We've got to stop somewhere first. For lunch."

"Okay…" She said slowly.

"I've really got to go, Cam. We'll be back soon, alright?"

"Mmm-hmm. Seeley?"

"What?!" he practically barked.

"Just be careful while you're driving, okay?" With that, she hung up the phone.

He probably would have been embarrassed, but his sensibilities were pretty efficiently dissolved by this point. He tossed his phone into the backseat.

The tires squealed, and the car stopped. Brennan sat, surprised. She had been so involved in her task that she hadn't noticed their change in locations. They were in the parking lot at his apartment complex.

He unbuckled his seat belt and hers, as well. With some effort, he wrestled his erection back into the confines of his pants. "Come on."

Realizing that arguing right now, even teasingly, would probably be a mistake, she obediently got out of the car, shut the door, and allowed herself to be practically dragged up the stairs to his apartment, smiling all the way.

Once inside, he slammed the door and attacked her lips, those wonderful, arousing lips, as he pressed her up against the door. "You are _so _much trouble," he groaned, rubbing himself against her.

"But it's never dull, is it?" She pushed herself back against him just as hard, putting her hand where her mouth had been just minutes earlier. She could almost feel him pulsing, through his pants. "We don't have much time before we have to go back."

He grabbed her hand and pulled her down the hall into his bedroom. Their hands immediately went to work undressing each other, her, for the second time that day, undoing his pants while he lifted her shirt over her head and hiked up her skirt. They fell back onto the bed kissing and touching frantically.

She rolled over on top of him, straddling him. "You want me to finish you off with my mouth?" she whispered, and another wave of arousal coursed through him, her words more exciting to him than any porno film ever could be.

"Yeah," he breathed, squeezing her breasts through her bra as she wriggled against him in pleasure. "You too."

"I don't know if we have time for both of us," she gasped between kisses.

"Yes we do." Almost before she knew what was happening, he had lifted her and spun her, easily. Now, she was straddling his face.

She moaned a little bit and felt desire pour through her, hotly. Both because of his show of strength, and in anticipation of this new turn of events. It was all she could do to keep from immediately grinding against his face, but she held back. He knew what to do, and she wouldn't take that away from him. As he began to lap at her slowly, she almost forgot what to do herself, as she closed her eyes in rapture. When she opened them, she was again reminded of his own need for her. She picked up what she had left off in the car, contenting herself with moaning around his rock hard member in her mouth.

He was lost in a world of her scent and her taste, and thought briefly that this must be what heaven is like. He squeezed her bottom and pulled her onto him more deeply, happy to be consumed by everything that was her. If he were to die right now, buried in her hot, wet flesh, he would be dying a blissful man. He should have thought of this earlier. By concentrating on each tongue movement that made her gasp the loudest, clamp her thighs on his head harder, he was much more able to control his reactions to her own velvety, impossibly hot mouth.

She sighed at the rapidly growing tension between her legs, and did her best to keep up with his pace. When he increased the pressure and speed of his licking and sucking, she did as well, using both her hands and lips to give him maximum pleasure. She took him into her mouth as deeply as possible, but it didn't feel deep enough. Being on top like this was perfect for her; he had full access to all of her, and she could easily increase her sensation by shifting and pressing harder against his mouth and tongue. But her own access to him was restricted. She pulled him from her mouth with a pop, and raised her hips from his busy tongue. He moaned in frustration at her sudden absence, trying to pull her back to him.

Resisting, she swung off of him and laid on her back, tugging at him to join her. She let her head fall back over the edge of the bed. "Here. Like this."

Recognition dawned on him, and he gulped heavily. He rolled on top of her, his face still aligned with her soaking sex. Taking care not to crush her, he lowered his mouth onto her at the same time she captured his cock in her mouth. His sounds of contentment at having his tongue back on her quickly shifted to loud groans as she began to take his cock deeper and deeper into her mouth. With her head tilted back, her throat was open, allowing her to engulf almost the entire length of him. She grabbed his hips and urged him on. He was being so careful.

She pulled back just for a second. "It's so good," she told him between her heavy breaths. "It's ok. Fuck my mouth harder." She sucked on the head of his cock, her hand pumping his shaft to keep the sensation going.

He moaned against her. "I don't want to choke you." He was rapidly reaching the point of no return.

"You're not going to do that. I trust you." She swallowed him once more.

He had so badly wanted to hear those words. Crying out, he began to tongue her and slide his fingers in and out of her with a new fervor. At the same time, he stroked in and out of her throat, thrusting deeply, then withdrawing enough to allow her a breath before plunging in again. This was turning her on. He could feel the telltale tightening of her inner walls and thighs, and her clit swelled against his tongue.

She wanted some way to announce her impending climax, so that he could join her, but her mouth was otherwise engaged. Her body language would have to do. She thrust her hips up harder against his lips and fingers. At the same, she began to swallow on the head of his cock, the muscles in her throat massaging the length of him.

He had never felt anything like this. He might pass out, he thought. There's no way someone's mouth should be able to do that. There's no way someone should taste so outrageously sweet. The combination of stimuli overwhelmed him. He growled and stiffened, allowing himself the luxury of an extra second slid deep into her throat. That was enough. He burst.

Feeling him throb in her mouth, she moaned the best she could in relief, and allowed herself to let go against him. She pressed up to meet him furiously as he let himself spill into her, gratified that he continued to stimulate her deeply even as he shook from his own orgasm. She could sense the intensity of his pleasure, and it added to her own, every pulse of his cock earning an analogous twitch in her own sex until they had run their course.

They laid, trembling for a few minutes. Unfortunately, they had not the luxury of time today. He rolled off her, carefully. They looked at each other. They were each soaking wet.

"Oh, we are _so _ready for work," she said. He burst out laughing.

"Just about." He reached over, brushed her wet hair off her forehead, and his smile faded. "Incredible," he said, stroking her cheek with the back of his fingers.

"I know," she said softly. He had that look in his eye again, the one that both thrilled and frightened her a bit. She knew he probably saw the same in her eyes.

They didn't have the time to think about it right now. "Come on," she said. She grabbed his underwear off the floor and threw them at him, playfully. "Let's get cleaned up and get back to work. Our minions await."

"We are all waiting for something."

In the past, such a comment would have incited an urge for a quick escape from her, but now she simply glanced back at him, with a half-smile. "Well. Let's hope that it's worth the wait, huh?"

He swung his arm around her, and they together walked to the bathroom to wash up.

"I'm sure it will be, Bones. I _know_ it will be."

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**A/N: If you liked it…let me know. If you didn't…let me know. And if you have no opinion at all…um…well then, still hit 'review' and just tell me how David Boreanaz is or something. I take just about anything I can get!**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Ooohh. **_**Ooohh. **_**Angry sex. I have some ambivalence about this chapter, because I have a lot of sensitivity to sexual assault issues and feel strongly about anything that even **_**resembles **_**rape, in this world or any other. But, I can't deny that in the right circumstances and with the right person, angry sex can be very, very hot. Plus, I got a feeling that if B&B ever did get together, it would be one of their staples. Still, I ask **_**you**_**, dear reviewers, to read this and give me feedback, about whether this is, indeed, hot, or whether I should never, ever write anything like it again.**

**Another of SSJL's little PSAs: If your partner ever even **_**implies **_**no, or is struggling, or isn't doing anything at all during sex, for God's sakes stop and check in with him/her, even if you are almost certain that he/she is hot for it. It isn't the kind of thing you want to be wrong about.**

**This chapter is for Original Max A, who thought that Booth would be remiss for reneging on his promise for wall-sex. It is also for my dark side, which, a bit embarrassingly, very much enjoyed writing this.**

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This time, there was no pouting. She was _fuming_. Completely, lividly, out-of-her-mind angry. And although Booth had seen it before, this was the first time since they had become intimate that she had been this pissed with him. At first, he had been apologetic. Now, his own temper was on a slow simmer, threatening to become a rolling boil. This was no good. No good at all.

It wasn't his fault. At least, not completely. His FBI colleagues had given him grief ever since he started working with Temperance Brennan. You couldn't get much more alpha-male club, good-old-boy culture than in the FB of I. That was slowly changing, as the organization made it a priority to make opportunities available to qualified women, and sensitivity training became routine. But as far as Special Agent Seeley Booth was concerned, boys would always be boys. So, he was in no way surprised that every time his pretty partner would come and go through his office, his fellow agents would always follow the visit with winks, nudges, whistles, and suggestive comments. 'You getting' some of that, Seeley boy?' was a common variation. 'Because I would.'

Truth be told, he did find this type of testosterone display more unappealing than some others. The pride he felt about being connected to Bones, at those moments, was typically overshadowed by his desire to redirect any man that looked sideways at her straight to Hell. 'Nah, it's not like that,' was his typical response, looking away while his colleagues gave him knowing looks.

'Such the gentleman, Seel. No kiss and tell.' And he didn't protest at their inaccuracy, because he was keenly aware of the reverse effect of protesting too much. He had told the truth, and it was theirs to do what they wanted with.

But now, 'It's not like that' wasn't the truth, was it? He and his partner spent the day working together, professionally and diligently, and the nights and weekends largely either next to each other or on top of each other. They were, by the grace of God, in a _relationship_. And Booth, mostly out of a desire to keep them the hell away from her, made the near fatal flaw of relaying this information to a few, chosen colleagues. By the end of the day, everybody and their secretaries knew. But, of course, the _relationship _part didn't really manage to get through. The part of the message that everybody got was that Booth and his partner Dr. Temperance Brennan were, indeed, banging like rabbits.

Although a little embarrassed, Booth wasn't overly concerned. He could take a little, mostly good-natured ribbing from the guys. But he hadn't been prepared for the near-violent force of his partner's reaction.

She had, at first, been fairly oblivious. Coming in to share some files from their most recent case, she had ignored the leering and the wiggling eyebrows of those she passed. She had looked at him questioningly as they gave what they thought were covert thumbs up and grins in his direction. But the death blow came when Sausman…fucking Sausman, who fancied himself the bureau cutup…cornered her outside Booth's office while she was making her exit. "Tell me something," he said conspiratorially. He put his arm around her shoulder, and she stiffened. He should be glad she didn't go directly into attack mode right then, Booth thought. But no, she saved that for later. "Is our Boothy boy here a dynamo in the sack, or what? 'Cuz we sort of have a bet going about whether all those muscles and all that hair gel are compensating for a lack of stamina. You know what I mean."

Booth was so busy looking at his fellow agent in horror that he didn't even notice her initial reaction, or the beginning of her flight. By the time he gathered his wits about him, she was halfway to the door. "Whoa. Bones. Bones!" She didn't bother to look back.

So that's how he ended up on her couch later that evening, rubbing his temples and trying to explain that he really did not mean to convey to his entire department that she was another of his sexual conquests.

"I'm having trouble here, Bones. I'm really, really sorry about Sausman and about the lack of professionalism that you saw today. But since when do you care whether or not people know who you sleep with? What does it matter?"

Her eyes flashed as she stared him down. "You don't get it, do you? I've spent two years earning my reputation as an asset to the FBI. If I ever had it in the first place. Now, that's all flushed down the toilet. My training doesn't matter, my experience doesn't matter. I'm just the girl that fucked her partner. That's probably why you keep working with me, right?" She tilted her head, looking at him challengingly. "Isn't that what they think?"

"That's not what they think. And who the hell cares if they did think that? You and I both know the work we do. Fuck them."

"No, not 'fuck them.' 'Them' is most everybody in my professional career. In your happy fantasy world, anybody can get respect if they are smart and work hard for it. It's not like that for women though, Booth. We have a whole other set of standards. A man sleeps with his partner, he's a hero. A woman does the same thing, and she's a slut. That's what you've turned me into, in their eyes, Booth. And _that's _why I'm pissed."

He was getting frustrated now, and his voice was raising. He stood from the couch, his hands on his hips. "What the hell do you want me to tell them Bones? You want me to lie? Tell them we aren't a couple?"

She stood her ground, refusing to back away from his larger form. "You shouldn't tell them _anything. _Just keep your mouth shut. It's none of their business. It's not important."

Now wait a minute. He crossed the line from frustrated to really angry at this point. "Not _important? _Our relationship is not important. So we're supposed to spend the rest of our lives pretending we don't mean anything to each other, so that nobody ever doubts that you are the queen anthropologist of the fucking world."

"Nobody said anything about the rest of our lives, Booth," she said icily.

His hands clenched into fists at her implication. "I seriously can't handle this. I have to keep secrets because _you _are embarrassed about what _we _are." He moved in closer to her, in her face now. "Is that it? Are you ashamed of this? Of being with me?"

She crossed her arms in front of her, but refused to budge. "Of course not."

"Then what is it, Bones?" He was on the verge of shouting now. He moved even closer to her, and for the first time, she unconsciously took a step back. "Maybe it's the opposite then. Maybe you are so pissed because they think it's about sex, but _you _know it's more than that. And God forbid that you tell them it's more than that, because then everybody would know that you had feelings. The whole world will fucking fall down if people know you care for me."

Her arms crossed tighter across her chest, and her face flushed a deep shade of pink. "That is completely ridiculous, Booth. I am ticked off because you compromised my reputation with the bureau because of your testosterone-fueled need to let everyone know about your conquests. That's all. Get it straight." Anxious to reassert her dominance, she shifted forward again, trying to get him to back down this time.

Their faces were inches from each other, eyes defiant and refusing to break contact, breathing a little bit heavier now. They stared at each other for awhile, silently daring the other to speak.

She noticed, a little suddenly, that his shoulders had dropped, and the irate expression on his face had fell to more of a smirk. That damn cocky look that he got when he was sure he was right. She hated that, and right now, it disconcerted her more than his anger had.

His voice was softer now, mocking. "You know, you're right. That's exactly what I did. Told them about how I broke you down, got you into bed." He swayed closer, and his chest touched her folded arms. When she moved back to avoid the contact, he repeated the action, again, and once more. "You want to know what I told them?"

She knew he was being sarcastic, making up a story to prove his point. But she was so angry she couldn't speak, and he took advantage of her stunned silence. "I told them about how you played the ice queen act for years. How I had to work on you, gain your trust. Get you used to me touching you, make you think I was one of the good guys."

He had been slowly backing her away from him, and she hadn't noticed until she felt the wall, hard and cool, behind her back. She had nowhere else to go, so she instinctively put up her hands to his chest, blocking him from coming closer. He put his hand behind her head on the wall, effectively trapping her for the moment.

"Then, I told them how I waited until just the right moment, when you were vulnerable. And I made sure that I was there so that it would be me you turned to." His head lowered, she could feel his breath on her face. "And then, I just held on until you couldn't take it anymore. Until you asked me to kiss you and…what was it again?…oh, yeah, 'fuck you with my tongue.'"

She was trembling with fury now. "Fuck you," she whispered. "Bastard." Hating herself right now because she knew that, if she tried, she could get out of this position, away from his mocking words. She could have him knocked out on the floor in a few seconds if she really wanted. But she didn't make that move. Couldn't, it felt like; he was paralyzing her with rage. And…God help her…he was turning her on.

His head tilted, his eyes never leaving hers, his lips a hair's breadth away from her own. "But it's true, right? That in a few minutes I had you begging for it, out of control. You couldn't have stopped if you wanted to. You came like a thunder bolt against my mouth."

He took one finger from the hand not leaning against the wall, and placed it against the hollow of her throat, trailing it down to where her skin met the top of her button-down shirt. She instinctively sucked in a breath.

"Is that what you think I told them? That after that, you couldn't get enough. You were practically pleading a few days later to let you suck me off. And you did it like a pro. Took everything I gave you."

Her sex throbbed, and she blinked back tears of frustration at her body for betraying her like this. She wanted to hit him. But all she could do was lean against the wall, listening to him say these crude, arousing things to her in an oddly soothing tone of voice, and let him touch her.

"And after that…well…there was no stopping us. You wanted it everywhere, right? In the pool, outside, on the road. Anywhere we went, you teased me until I ripped your clothes off." With that, he grabbed the two sides of her shirt and yanked them apart. Buttons flew. She gasped in surprise, and she felt her knees get weak. She felt his hard-on pressing against her through both his pants and her skirt, and felt her body beg for him in a way that her mind refused to.

He stared at her, contemplatively. He wondered if he should feel bad, provoking her like this. She had made him _so angry_ with her accusations and her refusal to acknowledge her own feelings; he had never thought about being rough with her, but this was like a train wreck. If she had seemed frightened, he would have been able to steer things back in a safer direction. But that look he saw in her face…he _knew_ it, intimately now. She was hot for it. Arousal coursed through him, and he hovered on the edge, waiting for her next action to determine the direction of what was to come.

Her shirt hung open in front of her and her chest was heaving. She gathered back her strength, stood up tall once more, and defiantly looked him in the eye. "If I am the one who wants it so bad, why are you the one who can't stand next to me without your dick getting hard?" She punctuated this by bolding pressing her hips to his, thrusting against him. "Jerk."

That was it. He was completely gone now, and the hand that had been on the wall behind her head now grabbed the back of her neck, forcefully pushing his lips to hers as they immediately began devouring one another. They licked and bit, not gently. He gasped as a nip to his lower lip drew a little blood, and he pushed her shoulders so they thumped against the wall, and he began to suck her neck punishingly while she groaned. There would be marks the next morning, no doubt about it. She desperately clawed at his shirt and, finding the buttons there, gave it the same treatment as he gave hers moments earlier, ripping it away from him. He growled at the sound of his expensive shirt coming apart. Holding her against the wall with one hand against her chest, he roughly yanked down her bra, exposing her breasts. Bending over a bit, he took a nipple in his mouth, sucking it hard and pinching the other one in between sentences.

"I told them this, too, right? How you moan in ecstasy when I squeeze you like that?" And she hated him because he was right, she was crying out uncontrollably as each of his hard sucks and squeezes sent what felt like an electric current to her clit. Her hands went to his hair and she pulled it, a little painfully, as he consumed her breasts with his lips and hands. It felt like she was wetter than she had ever been, and she squirmed in her soaked panties. As if he could read her mind, he thrust a hand up her skirt and pressed it between her legs.

He groaned. He could feel her lace panties and, beyond them, a dampness that made his groin pulse. "Fuck. You are so wet." He slipped one finger inside her underwear and moved it wetly up and down her slit, eliciting another long moan from her. Rapidly losing whatever sense of control he had retained, he grabbed the material with the entirety of his hand and yanked, ripping her panties from her body and tossing them aside. She gasped and trembled harder, rubbing herself against his hand.

"And what is it with the lace panties and the skirts lately?" he growled while stroking his wet fingers of one hand across and into her sex, while the other hand fought to free his erection from his pants. "Do you do it just to drive me crazy? Make me lose control? Well, it's working." He again attacked her mouth, their tongues battling. She tried to lean into the kiss, but he pressed back with his lips forcefully, keeping her head pinned against the wall.

As soon as he was free from his pants, she was practically climbing up him. Feeling her struggle, he leaned over and hooked his arms around the undersides of her knees, pushing up her skirt as high as it would go and lifting her up by her legs so her hips were supported by his arms, and her back by the wall. For a long second, they looked at each other, their faces a mix of anger and lust, of desperation and need. There, they read each other's unspoken agreement.

Unceremoniously, he dropped her hips so that she slid, slickly, down his cock. She let out a high-pitched whimper, squeezing onto him as if she were trying to stay in place by the force of her inner muscles alone. For a moment there was no other movement or sound, just the hot, thick length of him filling her up.

Then, he began to piston up and into her forcefully, while at the same time lifting her and dropping her onto his cock, using her own weight to increase the power of his thrusts. He grunted as he buried his face into her neck, sucking and biting there. She moaned nearly continuously, mostly helpless in this position but rolling her hips in time with his to force him into her as deep as he could go. Her body gave a shiver each time he bottomed out inside of her.

"What do you want me to do, Temperance?" he asked hoarsely. "What do you want me to tell people, when I don't tell them all of that?" She had no coherent response, choosing instead to scratch her fingernails down his shoulders and back, marking him.

"You want me to tell them how I've waited my whole life for you? How I can barely get through a day without seeing you, touching you?" Her milking inner walls were making his balls tighten.

"More," she moaned, and he lifted her up higher, slammed into her harder, taking her breath away. The tension in him was nearly at its breaking point, removing all vestiges of rational thinking. Just a few more thrusts…

"Should I tell them how much I adore you, how I'd give my life for you?" Her breath caught, again and again, and he could feel her body tightening in preparation for her climax.

He groaned, his face buried in her hair, his mouth at her ear, and he choked out one more sentence.

"Should I tell them how much I fucking love you?"

She screamed, her upper body plastered against the wall, her hips undulating in a wild cadence against him, her orgasm slamming into her body at the same time he began to fill her, fill her full, groaning in effort as he held her and pulled her and pushed her and tried to make her understand everything that was true about him, about them, and what they were to each other. All the energy that had fueled their fight lit up, exploded, and burned away, leaving…what, exactly?

Leaving two exhausted, stunned lovers in its wake. Releasing her legs while continuing to press her upper body against the wall, she slid slowly down, seeming somewhat surprised when her feet hit the floor. Both had the strange sensation that their legs weren't even real. Almost in tandem, they sank to the floor, staring at one another. Bodies trembling, pupils dilated, clothes ripped and torn. In shock.

They sat for an indeterminable amount of time. After who knows how long, Temperance dropped her head to one side, looking at him with an almost confused expression. "I'm sorry about your shirt." Her tone unreadable, but her eyes sincere.

He looked down at his ruined Armani shirt. Then back again at her. Slowly, he said "Yeah. Me too…about yours. And your underwear."

Another period of silence.

Finally. "Should we…um…go to bed?"

She stared, contemplatively. "Yes. I think we should. I'm kind of tired."

"Me too." He rose first, with effort. Held out his hand, and helped her up.

They walked together to the bedroom, where they undressed, and slid under the covers. Not talking, not touching. Eyes open. Eventually after several hours had passed, they fell asleep.

They would have to talk about this, oh yes. It was as unavoidable, as much so as the first time they kissed. But their frayed nerves and overstimulated minds wouldn't allow this right now. Even if they wanted to.

Never more did they need time than they needed it right now.

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**A/N: (Wipes brow). Whew. Want to make someone very, very happy today? Review this chapter! Guaranteed results!**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Some stats for you: -- 31679: number of hits to this story so far (holy cow!). 1—the number of people who gave me permission to take a break from writing for awhile, after my updating frenzy (thanks for looking out for me, BDBC: you're like my second mom. Only if my real mom read my smut, I'd prob. have to die). About 1 gazillion: number of people who said more more more right this second!!! LOL. Nobody should worry about me, though. Writing this story is one of the great pleasures of my summer, and I write only when it is fun for me. No more, no less.**

**Audience participation smut is postponed for this chapter so that I can get all Harlequin on your ass. Hey, a little sap now and then never hurt anyone, did it? If you feel so inclined, feel free to tell me to stop being so mushy and concentrate on the sex, already. I'm open to feedback!**

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For as long as he could remember, his favorite time of the day was those first few moments after waking naturally from sleep. In that short space between slumber and full consciousness were the minutes in which all the previous days' troubles were forgotten, and all that existed was the promise of a new day. 'Every day is a new beginning,' his mother used to tell him when he was a boy. 'Every day is a chance to make things better.' In those precious few first moments of the morning, before reality set in, all he saw were those possibilities.

This morning was no different. Even behind his closed eyelids he could sense the brightness of the room, and he felt the new energy of the morning. He was warm, and snug, and he could tell it was sunny outside, and he felt contentment wash over him. There were no murders to investigate. No angry exes arguing with him about visitation with his son. Just peace.

A few memories poked at his awareness, and he fought them. No. Not yet. He rolled to his side and his eyes cracked open. His partner was there. Temperance. Sleeping, breathing slowly and evenly, hair tousled across her pillow. A faint smile came across his lips and briefly, the uneasy recollections that had threatened to impede his blissful awakening were quelled. A new day, with the woman for whom he had yearned so long at his side. Perfect.

Something momentarily disturbed her sleep, and she murmured and shifted her position, but didn't wake. He watched her with tenderness. Then, her head fell to once side, exposing the length of her throat.

At that moment, reality reared up and sucker-punched him in the gut. Oh, no. Oh. Fucking. No.

The creamy skin of her neck was interrupted in several places with mottled, angry spots, ranging in color from bright red to deep purple.

He had made those marks. With his mouth.

And with that memory, the rest poured in. Her own anger, which caused her to devalue their relationship. His irritation, which gradually blossomed into full-fledged fury born of desperation. Her body, trapped between his and the wall, a barrier separating him from her heart that he felt frantic to tear down with his fingers and lips and his words. And those words…cruel at first, trying to break through. _'I waited until just the right moment, when you were vulnerable.' _He knew she'd recognize the blasphemy behind the statement, he had wanted her to. Wanted to fuck the denial right out of her. _'What do you want me to do, Temperance? What do you want me to tell people?' _He had needed to make her see. _'Should I tell them how I'd give my life for you? Should I tell them…'_

He bolted upright in the bed. God no. He didn't say it. Not like that.

She stirred at his movement, her eyes opening. "Is it time to get up yet?"

He looked at her uncomprehendingly for a second before her words registered. He glanced at the clock on the nightstand. 5:55. "Soon."

"Mmm." Her eyes closed once more. "You can shower first. I'm not ready." Apparently, she wasn't prepared to face the daylight yet, either.

He should probably demand that they go to work late today, try to convince her that it was absolutely essential that they talk about the previous night's events before they did _anything. _Before they even got out of bed. But the second he had been hit with that almost devastating flood of memories, he had begun to fight a rapidly rising tsunami of panic. It was becoming a losing battle. He remembered that she had been proud of herself (and he, of her) for not "freaking out" when they had begun to explore their growing feelings for one another. Now, in a surprising turn of events, he was the one freaking out. Big time.

His shower was over in record time, even before the snooze alarm went off for the first time. He dressed hurriedly, practically tripping over himself in the process. He had a brief urge to bolt without even saying goodbye, but that was overcome by his deeply ingrained common courtesy (where the hell had his common courtesy gone last night?). Leaning over the bed, he touched her shoulder, and her eyes opened. "I'm leaving."

She glanced at the clock. "Already?"

"Yeah." A pause. "I'll come over later tonight so we can talk. If that's ok?"

Her still sleep-filled eyes betrayed nothing. "Probably a good idea."

He was half-afraid to touch her, but pecked her on the forehead before escaping the room. A minute later, she heard his car peal out of the parking lot, right before the snooze alarm went off once more. Great.

Shuffling to the bathroom, she leaned against the vanity with both hands, regarding herself in the mirror. Well, now she could see what made him run so fast. She would run from herself, too; she looked like the victim from a leech attack. She half-smiled at the thought before reality made it fade.

A shower, a meticulous make-up job, and a high-collared shirt later, she was ready for work. Not for the first time, ridiculously thankful for her job, where everything made sense.

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He sleepwalked through most of his day. The more he tried not to think about it, the more he did. The more he tried to comfort himself, the guiltier he felt. He was going to go to Hell; do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars, do not forget about how you ruined your near-perfect fledgling relationship with your partner by being an asshole, and a fool. He had been so pissed at her for…what? For wanting her reputation to be based solely on her merit, rather than her sex partners? She was right. He was a jerk.

He couldn't believe that he had touched her beautiful body so roughly, marking it. And as for his parody of a confession of love while he slammed into her against the wall…yup. Hell wasn't good enough for him.

When he thought about that, especially, he felt the strange sensation of fullness in his throat and chest, like he had swallowed something wrong. Love. Did he love Temperance Brennan? It seemed like the sort of thing he should have thought about, should have known. It was something that he had said easily before, to several women in his lifetime. But recently, every time a thought of the feeling occurred to him, he repressed it, quickly doublethinking over it. Imagining, maybe, that such a feeling might be the very thing to drive her away from him. And he had accused _her _of being the queen of denial.

He told her he loved her. While he swore at her. Between sucking and biting at her skin. While pounding into her without tenderness. It was unforgivable.

But still…he remembered how wet she had been. Her moans…not of pain, but of rapture. How her face contorted beautifully as she convulsed around him at the zenith of her pleasure…

Ok, he really couldn't be thinking about this at work. It was not conducive to business. But he had to laugh wryly at himself when he thought that as badly as he felt about what had went down last night, it was actually a fairly accurate, if not exaggerated, representation of their partnership for the past two years. Hate and love, happily co-mingling so that he could barely tell one from the other.

He winced as a change in position caused his starched shirt to rub his back, irritating the scratch marks there. Temperance Brennan had not gone down without a fight, either. Nonetheless…he began to mentally rehearse his apology speech.

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She made an effort to do work today that would allow her to remain solitary, which worked pretty well; her colleagues were pretty well attuned to her alone-time moods, and they respected it, for the most part, Well…_most _of her colleagues.

Angela had pulled up a chair and was perching next to her by the brightly-lit examining table. "What's up with you today? Your I-just-got-ravished-three-times-last-night-by-my-hot-partner glow looks a little more deer-caught-in-the-headlights right now.

How did she figure this stuff out? Brennan wished briefly for a normal, oblivious, self-absorbed best friend who was uninterested in the minutia of her sex life. Still…it was nice to know that Ange cared. And what had happened last night _was _bothering her…

She leaned down closer to her subject on the table, examining more closely striation marks on the sphenoid bone of the cranium. "People in Booth's office found out about us, and were being very unprofessional about it. We fought about it last night. Things got a little out-of-hand."

"Out-of-hand as in he slept on the couch? Out-of-hand as in he's in the hospital right now? You have to be a little more specific, Sweetie."

"Out-of-hand as in my favorite pair of La Perla panties are now lying in pieces in the garbage can. And out-of-hand as in this." After a furtive glance around to make sure no one else was watching, she covertly pulled down the collar of her shirt, exposing the rainbow of broken blood vessels that make-up just could not disguise.

Angela's mouth fell open. "I…I'm speechless. For the first time in the history of our friendship, I have no words for you."

She sighed. "I know. Crazy, right? It was intense, Ange. We were being so _mean _to each other, both of us were so angry. The sex was just like an extension of that anger. It was kind of…scary, but exciting at the same time."

Angela shook her head. "That is so hot. I mean…wow."

She raised her eyebrow. "I'm not sure if 'hot' completely describes it. We couldn't even talk about it afterward. I think we're both a little afraid of each other now."

"Afraid of what? Aside from your little love bites there, we both know that you and Booth would never really hurt each other. The whole thing really just sounds like an excuse to have really crazy, hot, intense sex. To which I say, knock yourself out. Screw La Perla. Sounds like it was worth it."

She thought for a moment about whether to tell Angela the rest of the story. How his mockery of her words had dissolved into a declaration of love, right before their mutual orgasms slammed through their bodies. She decided against sharing this revelation. Angela would get incredibly excited, she knew, and would want to dissect the situation. But Brennan had been with enough men to know the facts, and she wasn't ready to even hypothesize about the assumptions that Ange would make. Men said all kinds of things during sex. There was true reality, and an alternate reality that existed during coitus. The two could be like night and day.

She felt badly about egging him on, and implying that he would ever purposely damage her reputation by discussing their sexual exploits. She had driven him over the edge, encouraged him all the way. Getting back to work, she began to rehearse her apology speech.

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Around nine, Booth was outside her door. He had stood there several minutes before knocking; once he had gotten the nerve, he was hit with another spasm of doubt when she didn't answer. He had knocked one more time, harder, and was just ready to call her cell when he heard her voice. Not from inside, from behind him.

"Why don't you just kick it in? It'll save me the trouble of unlocking it."

He turned and looked at her, sheepishly. "Geez, Bones. It's 9 on a Friday night. How was I supposed to know that you'd just be coming from work?"

"How would you _not _know that?"

They regarded each other a little nervously for a second, before she maneuvered around him to unlock the door. "Here. My apartment's a little more comfortable than the hallway. I hope."

They entered, and she went into the kitchen and dropped her purse and her briefcase full of files on the table. "I'm going to go change," she called out as she went into the bedroom. "Grab whatever you want from the fridge."

He stayed in the living room, tensely looking around. In the back of his mind he had thought there would be some sort of damning evidence remaining, forcing him to acknowledge what had happened last night. Their ripped clothes still lying on the floor. Blood from the scratches on his back. Burn marks on the wall, he thought dryly. But of course, there was nothing. Anything that had remained, she had discarded.

He sat down and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, she was back in the room, looking at him curiously. She was wearing her short pajama bottoms and the silky camisole that she had been wearing under her shirt today.

"You didn't want to go anywhere tonight, did you?" she asked, gesturing to her wardrobe. "I'm kind of beat, and I just wanted to get more comfortable…"

"That's just fine," he interrupted. She stopped talking and sat on the opposite end of the couch. They sat unspeaking for a few minutes, looking everywhere but at each other.

Finally, he cleared his throat. "Temperance…about last night…"

"It's ok," she said quickly. He looked at her, taken aback a little.

She continued. "I don't want it to be…a _thing_, ok? I overreacted." She paused. "I mean, I still am not happy about your colleagues treating me like a porn star, and I hope that now you see why we need to be a little more discreet, at least at work. But it was wrong of me to act as if you made that happen on purpose. I know that you did not. So, I am sorry for attacking you like I did. Next time, I'll be more reasonable."

She was claiming liability for the incident. So either she had suffered some type of brain injury, or she was in desperate avoidance mode. His money was on the latter.

"Bones, it wasn't your fault. It got so far out of hand…I said some things…"

She interrupted. "We both said some things, out of anger. There were a lot of emotions flowing. We weren't ourselves. Like I said, not a 'thing,' right? We can just…start over."

"No," she said firmly. He took her face in his hands, and his voice softened. "Today when I woke up, and I saw the marks I had made on you…I was just horrified, Bones. And I thought about how cruel I was, in the things I said to you, and how the things I did to you could easily be perceived as abusive. And I couldn't stand that…thinking that I might have hurt you, or scared you. I want to be the person who protects you from things like that. Last night, I wasn't, and I hate that. I am so angry at myself, Bones. I am so sorry."

She sighed, and covered his hands with her own. "Please stop the self-flagellation, Booth. Of course, I'd prefer it if we didn't talk that way to one another. But let's not delude ourselves here. Obviously, you weren't hurting me, or scaring me, because if you were I wouldn't have had sex with you." She thought about what Angela had said earlier. "It was just…crazy, hot, intense sex. Right?" Her voice had an edge of desperation to it.

He thought about this for a second. She was giving him an out, and part of him urgently wanted to take it. Another part of him loudly protested this, sure that whatever else was to come, what he had said and done couldn't be taken back. And if they tried to pretend it was a non-issue, it was going to hover between them from now until eternity until they addressed it. A look at her face quickly told him that trying to address it now would be futile; she was up in arms, ready to dismiss anything he said. If she were to listen to him, he would have to disarm her first.

His hands dropped to her lap, and held hers there tightly. "Will you let me make it up to you?" he asked softly.

She laughed quietly. "What are you going to do? Shine my shoes? Clean my apartment?" She smirked. "Buy me new panties?"

He smiled, stroking the palms of her hands with his thumbs. "If you want all those things, maybe later." Looking at her seriously, he tried to convey his desire to make things right. "Let me make love to you. The way you deserve it. The way it's supposed to be."

Oh, Lord. The Prince Charming imitation again. Her immediate exasperation quickly disappeared when she looked into his eyes, seeing intensity there that was as hot as, but different from last night. Her belly flip-flopped, and she half cursed herself and half reveled in the power he had to arouse her with barely a touch. She smiled. "I think I'd have to be crazy not to take you up on that offer."

"You definitely would be," he said gravely. His hands took to stroking her legs from where her shorts met her thighs, to her knees. "Could you do me a favor, though?"

She looked at him suspiciously. "You aren't going to make me wait to come again, are you?"

He chuckled. "No. You can come whenever you want. As much as you want."

She felt moisture gathering between her legs. She had no doubt that if he was to do what he said, she would be coming many, many times tonight, and the thought made her wet with anticipation. "Then, what?"

"I might talk to you tonight, and if I do, I don't want you to say anything back. I don't want you thinking about what words to say, how to respond to me. I just want you to feel. Alright?" His hands were at her waist now, a precursor to an embrace. Her body was itching for his touch.

"Don't talk, huh? That's asking a lot."

"I'll make it worth your while." His lips moved gently to her jaw, pressing them there delicately. It sent a shiver through her. She knew that he was right.

"Okay," she whispered. It was getting easier and easier to surrender to him. Perhaps that should have bothered her, but right now it did not.

"Thank you." His fingers rose to her lips, his thumb outlining them carefully. They tingled against him. "Can I kiss you now?"

She nodded, mutely. Of course he could. Silly question. Still, she was gratified at his considerateness.

He drew her face closer, his eyes holding her captive. When his lips were almost at hers, he stopped, and she felt that he was savoring the moment, like it was the first or last time he was ever going to kiss her. The mood was contagious, and she felt herself quiver in anticipation. When was the last time she had been so hungry for a kiss? She couldn't remember.

Before giving her the complete satisfaction of his mouth covering hers, he pressed tiny kisses all around her full lips, occasionally allowing himself tiny tastes of her with the tip of his tongue. Her eyes closed and she sighed deeply, sensually. The sound was like an aphrodisiac, and he felt his own arousal upped a notch. "You have the most beautiful lips. Ever since we met I've watched them. Even when you were saying the most infuriating things, I couldn't hate you because they were coming from that angel's mouth. I thought constantly about touching them, running my tongue around them. I still do." He did just that, before taking her fully into his arms and gracing her with an almost painfully slow, sweet kiss. She relaxed into him and the irony struck him of how the softer her body felt against his, the harder his got.

She made efforts to deepen the kiss, increase the energy behind it, but he held back, keeping things on a slow burn. After a brief surge of frustration, she gave in to his pace, allowing herself to appreciate every taste and texture and sensation of his lips against hers. The momentum increased so slowly that she barely recognized it when it occurred; his mouth opened a little wider on hers, the pressure increased just a bit, his tongue gently stroking the outside of her mouth before briefly allowing it to make contact with her own. Everything inside her was humming as she lost herself in the kiss. When she eventually had a rational thought once more, it was surprise at how long this must have been going on. They must have been in this slow, sensual make-out session for at least a half hour, and all their clothes were still on, the rest of her body untouched. Again, she felt the stark contrast between this and their previous encounter, and she made the effort to appreciate the infinite care he was taking with her, treating her like she was something precious.

His lips eventually trailed down her throat, and she sighed in approval. His lips and tongue stroked the marks that were there, willing them to be soothed away with the tender action. "This was inexcusable," he murmured against her neck. "You have the softest, most perfect skin I've ever touched. Nothing should mark it, change it, ever. I'm so sorry."

Her head tipped back to give him more access. _"It felt good at the time," _she thought, remembering the sensations his desperately sucking mouth had created in her body. No matter. This was equally powerful, in a different way, and she had promised to let _him _have the words tonight.

He stood, and she made a small sound of displeasure at having his mouth taken away from her. She wasn't to feel the loss for long, however; sliding his arms underneath her securely, he lifted her and carried her to the bedroom, kissing her the whole way.

He laid her gently on her bed, and she was a little flustered by the wonder in his eyes as he gazed down at her. He sighed.

"You have no idea how much I've wanted you, for how long. At first, it was just because you were so breathtakingly gorgeous. Anybody would want you. But after we became friends…everything about you was so different from what I had known. You were like this exotic thing that I had no idea how to manage, and it made me crazy. I wanted you so much, but had no idea about how to be with someone as exceptional as you were. And now that I have been…I don't see how anything else could ever be good enough."

His hands went to lift her camisole, and she felt warm under the blanket of his adoration. No one had ever looked at her this way. No one had ever talked to her this way. She was just a woman…one with much emotional baggage and inner struggle, at that. Where did he see all this beauty? Whatever he saw, she never wanted him to stop.

He tugged at her camisole and she lifted slightly, allowing him to pull it off of her shoulders. Her lacy white bra underneath barely could contain her breasts, which were swollen with expectation. She arched toward him, silently asking for his attentions.

"Oh, Temperance." He exhaled shakily, tracing the straps from her shoulders down to where they met the cups of her bra. He leaned over and pressed kisses around the scalloped edges of the material, and her nipples became demandingly firm under the fabric. Her little sighing moans excited him as he moved his mouth around the perimeter of her covered breasts. She could feel the heat of his breath, but only the slightest amount of pressure from his lips, teasing her. She held his head and threaded her fingers through his hair, imploring him for more.

He chuckled softly. "I know, sweetheart. I know how much you want my mouth on you. Trust me, it's just as hard for me not to taste you." He put his lips around one nipple and sucked through the fabric, inciting a loud gasp from her and a tug on his hair. She squirmed at the dampness against her, and impatiently reached between her body and the bed to unhook her bra. He allowed her this, helping her by slipping the straps down her shoulders.

When she fell free before him, he openly marveled at her, his eyes raking over her body. "Nobody has more beautiful breasts than you, Temperance. They are perfect." His fingertips caressed one, and he could feel her heartbeat quicken at the touch. He cupped them more fully. "Do you feel that? Do you feel how they fit my hands like they were meant to be there?" Her nipples, already erect, seemed to extend even further, and he brushed them with his thumbs. "I love how your body responds to me. It speaks to me even when you don't, you know? I'm becoming fluent." He rolled her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, tugging gently, prompting a gasp. "God, that turns me on, when you make those sounds. I don't want anyone else to ever hear them except for me. Ever again."

He began gently ministering to her breasts with gentle flicks of his tongue while he used his hands to stroke and tickle her torso and her taut stomach. He nudged down her shorts inch by inch while she undulated against his mouth and fingers. His hand slipped down the back of her shorts and cupped her bare bottom, squeezing. "I don't know if I've ever told you this one…but you have the most picture-perfect ass. You drive me nuts every time you walk past me. I just want to grab hold of you and pull you against me."

She pressed against his hand and wiggled, encouraging him to divest her of the shorts. He complied, easing them over her hips while he kissed her belly. Once she was stripped bare, he backed up to take her in. She struggled to keep from grabbing his hands and putting them back on her burning body.

His eyes had darkened, and she saw there an almost fierce possessiveness. He leaned down close to her.

"I want to tell you what I want, Temperance, and how I feel." His hands began to stroke up and down her body feverishly, not staying in one place for very long. "I hate it that anyone else ever saw you like this, touched you like this. I don't want it to happen again. I want your body to be for my hands, and my eyes. And mine, for yours."

She began moving restlessly, her hands moving to his own clothes to help pull them off. Under normal circumstances she may have at least feigned displeasure at his selfish desire to own her body, keep it for himself. For some reason, she was occasionally coming to find his territoriality a little sexy; it made her feel protected, safe. There was something in her that gave a little thrill at the thought of their bodies being each other's little secrets. Her hands pushed down his pants and she pressed up against him. Or, big secrets, as the case may be.

He groaned at the contact. "I want everyone to know we're together. Not that we are having sex…that we are _together. _That you come home and sleep with me at night. That I'm the one you kiss, the one you share secrets with. That out of all the men in all the world, you choose to be with _me._"

At his words, she understood the hurt he must have felt when she reacted so violently to others' knowledge of their relationship. As important as it was that they stay professional at work, her anger must have looked a lot like shame. And she wasn't ashamed. Not by a long shot.

He nudged her legs apart, and began stroking the creases where her thighs met her hips, outlining her inner lips with his fingertips, and her vocalizations became more constant, more desperate. "This is so much more than sex. You know that, right? All I can think about is how to make you feel good, how to make you happy. How to make you see how much you mean to me." One of his wet fingers slipped inside her and began to stroke her slowly. His thumb brushed against her clit, while his little finger stroked her perineum. God, he was talented. "Does that make you feel good, Temperance? I want to make you feel so amazing." He lowered his mouth to her breast, suckling while he rubbed her intimately.

It _did _feel amazing, and she couldn't take much more. The physical stimulation was always enough to send her into nirvana. But the _emotional _stimulation of his words…he was going to kill her. This was too much for her. She wasn't _good _at emotions, but God this felt so right…

With a cry she pushed him over onto his back and straddled him. He looked at her in surprise. She had promised not to say anything…but she hadn't promised to lay and passively endure this poignant overstimulation. She wanted him now; needed him desperately in a way that she couldn't put into words at this moment if she tried. She poised over top of him.

Then, she lowered herself down. Inch by inch, she wrapped around him like a wet vise, allowing him to feel every nuance of being inside of her. Her eyes met his in a desperate, silent communication: _Don't stop. _

He let out a shuddering breath. "You feel so good. Nobody else could feel like this. Our bodies were made so you and I could fit together this perfectly."

Although she did not believe in fate such as what he was describing, she had to admit that they couldn't go together more flawlessly. She had never been filled the way that he filled her, and her insides trembled at the fit. She began to ease slowly up and down, gasping, feeling the ridge of the head of his cock catch her right against the spot inside of her that gave her the most pleasure. She gripped him the hardest on the upstroke; right when he thought that she had to have gone too far, and he was going to slip out of her, she seized in and held him firmly in place.

Between gasps, he continued to talk to her. "This is the way it needs to be, baby. Can you feel that? We have to hold onto it. It's too good to let go. It _is _important. It _could _be the rest of our lives."

She was rising and falling, her hands holding herself up on his chest while he gripped her hips. She tossed her head back and moaned in joy at the feelings racing through her.

He wrapped his arm around her waist and flipped her, so he was on top of her. With his face at hers, he slowly pumped her, making each stroke last, making her feel everything. "You feel this?" He kissed her and she whimpered into his mouth. He kissed her all over her face. "This is what it feels like to make love, Temperance. This is everything."

She began to shudder uncontrollably, tears falling from her eyes unbidden. He grasped her head. "Keep looking at me, baby. I need you to see everything. I need you to know the truth."

Her eyes locked with his, and she saw it. It wasn't a mystery anymore, it was pure and right and good and it was for her. _He _was for her, and he was giving freely of himself. All she had to do was accept it.

She felt the emotions and the pleasure intertwine, and felt him quivering, straining inside of her. It was all overwhelming, and the avalanche of sensations carried her away. She moaned hard, trying to convey with her sounds and her body all the things inside of her that were left unsaid. They shook together, coming, going, but never breaking the eye contact that linked them in a way that transcended the physical. Their climaxes seemed to use an energy that was external to them to give them an almost otherworldly pleasure. It freed them, even as it drained them. As it flowed and ebbed through their bodies, they both cried, knowing that no ordinary orgasm was like this. What they were together was a force of nature.

She whimpered softly as he rocked a few more times against her, extending the pulsing inside of her. When his body stilled, he placed a trembling kiss on her forehead.

"I need you to know, Temperance…you have to know…"

She opened her mouth to speak and he immediately swallowed whatever she was about to say with a kiss. "Please…be still." A tear dripped from her eye, and she settled back, accepting.

He brushed the tear away. "I love you. That's all. Everything comes down to that." He took a shaky breath. "I don't want you to say anything right now. Just know that it's true. Not just something that was said in the heat of the moment. It is just for you. My heart is all yours." He looked deeply into her eyes. "You understand?"

She nodded. Wrapping her arms around his heated body, she kissed him fiercely, gratefully, then held him against her. Glad for the time he had given her to understand, and think about what was happening. And glad for one of the most complete senses of peace that she ever had in her life, enveloping her in that moment.

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**A/N: I don't ask for much, do I? I don't ask for money. I don't ask for glory. All I ask for is the occasional piece of chocolate and all the reviews that you can throw at me. So no excuses! So you read, so must you review.**

**Kisses!**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Here's a sweet little fun chapter for you. Somebody requested shower sex, right? I'm not sure I remember…if it's your idea, please claim it. And don't forget to keep sending me your super-fun smutty ideas! C'mon, I know that I'm not the only person to think about this stuff:-)**

**Thank you all for your kind reviews of the last chapter. It brought out more folks than ever, and you know that I adore that and it makes me write so much faster. My new goals include: having each chapter be reviewed more than the last, and to have every self-respecting smut-loving Bones fan on this site put this story on alert. I will spend the rest of the summer trying to make you proud…promise!**

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She started awake at the sound of the phone ringing. What the hell? What time was it? What day was it? She felt around on the nightstand until her hand fell on the phone. A couple of tries later, she managed to hit the answer button. "Brennan."

"Morning, Sweetie!" chirped a cheerful and far-too-wide-awake voice.

"Ange." She rubbed her eyes. Her faculties slowly returned to her. It was Saturday, so she wasn't late for work. A quick survey of the room told her she was alone in her bed. "What's up?"

"Are you just now waking up? Is Temperance Brennan _really _still sleeping at 8:30 in the morning?"

"8:30?" That perked her up a little bit. "Wow, I guess so. I don't know how that happened."

"Hmm. Maybe it's the phases of the moon or the position of the stars or the _hot animal sex that you are having every night._ You just never know."

She chuckled throatily. "Did you call just to embarrass me, or can I do something for you?"

Her voice sounded hurt. "_No. _I never _try_ to embarrass you. It just happens naturally." She paused. "I just wanted to call and make sure that you and Booth resolved your issues from the other night. And that no other panties were harmed in the process. Because that's what friends do…they care about each other's relationships."

Brennan settled back into bed. "Oh. Well, that's nice of you, Ange. Um, yes, I think that things are resolved, for the most part." She mentally reviewed the events of the night before. "We talked about it…actually, I didn't talk very much, he did most of the talking…and I think we understand each other better now."

"Well, that's fabulous. I knew you would. And I just know that you had great post-fight nooky, too." It wasn't a question, so Brennan didn't respond as such.

"So," Angela continued. "When are you guys and Jack and I going to go on a double-date?" She burst out laughing almost before she got the question out. "If you would have told me a year ago that I'd be saying _that, _you probably would have started seeing a therapist much sooner."

She smiled. "I'll say." Faintly she could hear noises from elsewhere in the apartment. So she wasn't alone, after all. "It's still kind of a weird question, isn't it? We haven't started to do real couple stuff yet. I don't think. I mean, if we go to the diner after we solve a case, is that a date? Because we used to do that all the time anyway."

"What you two need is a romantic night out. You know…dressing up, dancing, the whole works."

The idea felt foreign to her. "Maybe." She shifted the phone from one ear to the other. "Hey, Ange? How much do people at work know right now?"

"Hmm. Well, Jack knows pretty much everything except the goriest of details. Sorry, but you knew that I wouldn't be able to contain myself _that _much," she said apologetically. She was right, Brennan knew that. "Umm…Zack is pretty oblivious to everything, even if we talk about it right in front of him. I don't think he's entirely convinced that scientists and non-scientists can mate with each other. And Cam…I think she's known something was up since she called when you were giving Booth head in the car."

Brennan nearly dropped the phone. "What? She knew that? She told you that?"

Angela was holding back a giggle fit. "Not in so many words. After she talked to Booth that day, she just said it was obvious that he was distracted. In the car. With you. I inferred the rest, and I'm assuming that since she is a smart woman, she did as well."

"Oh my God," she moaned, her head dropping back on the pillow. "And I accused Booth of being unprofessional. That is so embarrassing."

"Oh, don't be such a prude, Sweetie. Cam's not. And you can't tell me that it doesn't give you just the tiniest bit of satisfaction."

"_No," _she said indignantly. Then, "Well…maybe just a _tiny _bit."

Angela laughed. "That's my girl. I knew we were best friends for a reason."

She saw the bedroom door being pushed open and Booth came in, back first. When he turned, she saw that he was carrying a tray. This was just too disgustingly perfect. Breakfast in bed.

"I think I've got to go, Ange. I'm about to have my face stuffed."

"You minx!" she gasped.

Brennan's face screwed up in frustration. "Not like _that. _With food!"

"Whatever you say. I'll talk to you later." She clicked off the phone.

"Grr," she growled at the receiver before hanging up. Then, looking up at her partner, smiling. "What have you done this time?"

"Delicious, wonderful things," he proclaimed, sitting the tray down beside her. Pancakes. Bacon. Strawberries. Mimosa. It smelled heavenly.

"Seeley Booth, you have got to be kidding me." She looked at him disbelievingly. "I think you've got the wrong woman here. I think that I'm living someone else's life."

"No way, babe. This life's all ours." He sat beside her and kissed her briefly.

She was about to continue her protest, that she wasn't enough of a girl for this, that she couldn't possibly appreciate his shows of kindness and chivalry. Something inside stopped her, though. _'Just say thank you.' _She smiled. "Thank you. This is so nice."

He beamed, and she knew that she said the right thing.

When she began to eat, she was surprised at how hungry she really was. Emotions, she decided, took a lot of energy. Not to mention the physical activity that accompanied them.

"You better watch out," she said, gulping her mimosa. "I could get used to this. Then you'll have to quit your job so you can stay home and make me food."

"Sorry, milady. No can do."

Her mouth opened wide in fake shock. "Why ever not? You don't like the idea of being at my beck and call?"

"Quite the contrary. But unfortunately, somebody already told me that I wasn't allowed to live in her house. And who wants a homeless servant hanging around?"

"True." She smiled. "Besides, then we couldn't work on cases together. Then who would I argue with at work?"

"You'd have a couple options. But none of them would be as good as me."

She laid her utensils down on her tray and regarded him earnestly. "You're right, Booth. They wouldn't be." He smiled. "No, seriously," she insisted. "This…" she gestured to him and to the food in front of her…"this is so unreal to me. It's so far off from what I'm used to, or what I even thought I wanted. I don't even know what to do with it."

He raised his eyebrows. "How about this. You _enjoy _it."

She looked down a little bashfully. He felt a little pang of hurt for her; she, who had gotten so used to things being taken away, that she struggled with accepting the gifts others offered her. She was doing better, with him. But there was still a long way to go.

He smiled and pulled her forehead to his lips, kissing it. "You finish up. I'm going to jump in the shower, and when I'm done we can talk about what we're going to do today.

He stood. "Booth," she called before he left the room. He turned back to her. "Thank you. Thank you thank you thank you." He winked at her and exited.

She finished the last of her strawberries and her drink, then sighed and laid back. Her stomach felt full and content, and she felt energized. And her body felt…how _did _her body feel? A voice from inside her answered. _'Well-loved.' _After a moment of consideration, she decided to accept the term.

Thinking about some of the things he had told her last night, she was struck with the sense that after hovering at the point of no return for a few weeks now, they had finally passed it. He had said that now that he experienced what it was like to be with her, that he could no longer settle for anything less. When she contemplated this, she found herself coming to a similar conclusion. She had, in the past, comforted herself upon breakups by reminding herself that there were plenty of other men in the world who could fulfill her (very few) needs just fine, thank you very much. Now, she found it a little frightening that after this experience, this would no longer be the case. Seeley Booth had ruined her on other men for life. She would have laughed at the thought if she was completely certain that it was untrue. But, remembering how he had made love to her…there wasn't anything else like it in the world.

She felt a little flushed and dizzy, and she wondered how much champagne had actually been in that mimosa. Squirming slightly, she found herself wishing that his shower was over already so that she could touch him again. Her internal voice (which appeared to have become her constant companion as of late) prodded her. _'Why wait?' _

Well, Little Voicy there had a point. Since when did Temperance Brennan wait for anything she wanted? It was against her nature…she was a go-getter, for sure.

She lifted the tray up and placed it on the floor next to her. After a quick stretch, she kicked the covers off of herself and climbed out of bed, heading towards the bathroom. On her way, she caught a glimpse of herself in the full-length mirrors that made up her closet doors, and she had to backtrack.

Looking at herself, she suddenly understood how Angela noticed whenever something was or wasn't happening in the bedroom. Her face…her whole body, really…had a rosy glow to it, and her eyes were shining. She turned from one side to the other, examining herself. He had told her that she had beautiful lips and breasts, and that she had a 'picture-perfect' ass. She zeroed in on these assets, running her hands over her body. A slow smile spread on her face. You know what? He was _right. _She had never really taken the time to notice before, but right now she felt gorgeous, sexy. And it was a _fabulous _feeling. With one last appreciative look, she strutted off to find her lover.

The bathroom was steaming, but she could see his silhouette through the condensation of the shower door. He was singing a tune…"Ain't no mountain high enough, ain't no valley low enough…" interspersed with humming where he apparently did not know the lyrics. She chuckled softly.

Sliding the door open behind him, she peeked her head inside. He sensed the change in temperature and turned his head, smiling at her.

She stifled a gasp. How many times had she seen him naked by now? Dozens? Shouldn't she be habituated yet? She wasn't. Watching the water spray onto him, soapy bubbles slipping lazily down his smooth, muscular chest and shoulders while surrounded in a steamy mist, smiling that sexy smile…it was visual sensation overload.

Sensing her appreciation, he grinned a little wider, stood up a little straighter, his chest puffing out a bit. "What can I do for _you, _sexy?"

"I thought getting _you _clean might be a two-person job."

"You're probably right. I was just thinking about how hard it was, doing this alone." He held out a hand to her, and she took in and carefully stepped in. Once she was safely in place behind him, he turned back into the spray, cupping his hands to fill them with water then splashing it into his hair.

She breathed in deeply of the humid, clean-smelling air, and she wrapped her arms around him, pressing her cheek to his sculpted back. His skin felt hot and soaking against her, and she watched with fascination as droplets rolled down his back, around his shoulder blades, down his spine…then lower. Talk about a picture-perfect ass. She pressed her lips to the back of his neck as she ran her hands down the backside of him, squeezing and kneading along the way, loving the way he felt under her fingertips. Reaching around, she took the soap from his hands and ran it down his body in the places she had touched before, leaving a trail of tiny bubbles in its wake. He moaned his appreciation at her sensual, gentle touch.

Not liking not be able to see her, he turned to face her and, grabbing her hips, switched their position so that she was under the tickling spray of the shower. She gasped at the sudden warmth, then tipped her head back to fully soak herself. After she righted herself, she slicked the water down her body using her hands.

Booth grinned at her. "I think my favorite Dr. Brennan is a wet Dr. Brennan."

"Do you ever even see me when I'm _not _wet anymore?" she chuckled.

His amusement turned to more desire as she continued bathing him, soaping up his chest and hard stomach. Once she found him sufficiently lathered, she put the soap down, and pressed herself into him for an embrace. They both stood that way for a moment, enjoying the slippery, wet, skin-to-skin contact and the delicious sensations that it was creating in their bodies.

She felt his erection pressing into her thighs, and she sighed. Grabbing his ass, she pulled him to nestle into her more tightly. She pulled her head back slightly to look at him. "This feels so good. _You _feel so good."

"You got that right, baby." He ran his fingers through her wet hair and pulled it towards him. Their mouths met in a hot kiss, the flavor of one another and the fresh water mingling with each other under the spray.

She pulled back for a second. "Do me a favor? Never, ever let anyone know that you call me baby? Or sexy? Or sweetheart? Any of those derivatives. It's really not good for my image."

"We can talk about sexism and the infantalization of women later, Bones." He was grinding against her soapy pubic mound, and his breathing was becoming ragged. "Right now, I have other business to attend to."

He spun her around once more. His hands glided smoothly over her already-lathered breasts and tummy, and his slippery fingers grasped at her nipples and promptly slid up to the tips, drawing hot waves of sensation through her upper body. She felt his hardness snug in the cleft of her bottom, and had to lean back against him to support her weakening, increasingly-aroused body.

When she thought it couldn't get any better than his hands sliding over her while the spray dripped down their bodies, she found she was mistaken. It was _always _getting better…she should know that by now. He removed the showerhead from its suspended position and, circling it around her, jetted the water across her chest, washing away the remaining soap with both the spray and his hand. The combination of his flesh on hers and the delightful tickling of the water intertwined, making her wriggle back against his hard chest in pleasure. She reached back, wanting to touch him, and contented herself with running her hands up and down his hips and thighs, occasionally grabbing his ass and encouraging his rocking movements against her.

He brought the showerhead slowly down her body, letting the water caress her. He felt her increasingly restless movements against him and knew that she was ready for increased stimulation. And yes, he _loved _to stimulate her. He used his free hand to gently rub the length of her dripping sex, then used his fingers to carefully spread her folds.

"Mmmm," she moaned, letting her head drop back to his shoulder, her eyes closed. She knew what was coming, and _knowing _that she knew what was coming, he was purposely teasing her. He moved the spray of the shower across her sex once, twice, not remaining in place long enough to give satisfaction. Sliding a finger inside of her, he felt her raise up and down against his hand, trying desperately to give herself full stimulation.

Hearing her breathless gasps, he felt a little guilty about holding back from her, but tried to comfort himself with the knowledge that his teasing would increase the power of her eventual orgasm. Soon, however, he found that this little game was having a reverse effect; the feeling of her ass rubbing up and down against his cock was bringing _him _closer to the edge than he wanted to be.

Giving in, he stimulated her the way that she was begging for. While thrusting his fingers in particularly deep, he directed the spray of the showerhead directly at her clit, tickling her most sensitive area with the water's most delicate touch while he stroked her inside with his own. She squealed and began moving her hips frantically on both him and the liquid raining against her.

"Does that feel good, babe?" he whispered into her ear.

"Fuck, yeah," she gasped, and he thrilled at being able to bring his smart, pretty, classy scientist to her baser instincts with his intimate attentions. Redoubling his efforts, he curled his fingers inside of her to rub the spot that he found weeks ago, the one that usually had her screaming in climax within a minute of stimulation. Her body was helpless against him, and her thighs were beginning to shake with the effort of holding herself up through this powerful encounter. She cried out his name as the first tremor hit her body, starting at her center and rolling up through her belly…her chest…her heart.

He had been waiting for this. As soon as he felt her beginning to shudder, he removed his fingers from her. Keeping the water streaming on her clit, he lifted her slightly with his newly free hand and thrust his cock into her. The shock of this new invasion, hotter, thicker, and longer than his fingers, had the intended effect; it renewed her orgasm with its original force, and he could feel her contracting around him from the moment he was inside of her. The water he was spraying on her clit was also ticking his balls. He groaned, and decided right then that this particular combination of sensations was his new number one most amazing thing he had ever felt.

"Oh God, baby…Oh God, baby…" he chanted, and his cries mingled with hers as he felt the white river rapids of his own climax break over him. It seemed to him that he was coming more than he ever had in his life; every pulsation of his cock triggered a continuation of her orgasm, and every contraction of her around him brought about another eruption deep inside of her. By the time this self-perpetuating symbiosis had run its course, the water against them was beginning to run cold. It served as a refreshing re-energizer to their overheated skin.

Booth lifted up the showerhead and reattached it, so it was once again cascading over them from up above. With a deep exhale, Temperance turned once more to face him. In each other's eyes, they saw the mutual agreement: _'This is the best thing that ever was. Or ever will be.' _He kissed the mist from her temple, and they fell against other, absorbing the other's energy.

When the water finally got too cold to stand, Booth moved away and turned off the spigot. He quickly opened the door and grabbed towels to dry their shivering bodies. After wrapping her tightly, he looked at her seriously.

"This is going on my list."

She raised an eyebrow. "Okay…what is "this?" And what is "the list?"

He smiled and pushed a damp lock of hair out of her face. "The list is The Reasons Why Seeley Booth and Temperance Brennan Must Be Together. And the first entry is, showers are just better that way."

She chuckled as they made their way back to the bedroom to get dressed. If they could make it that far. Recently, as Angela had pointed out, you just never know.

She was gratified at the sweetness and humor that continued to be pervasive in their relationship. Deep inside, she had been worried that after Booth's confession of love, that they would be regulated to the serious business of Being A Couple. His keeping things light was another gift for her.

There were be more times, probably necessary in the very near future, where serious would be necessary. But for now, Temperance Brennan felt free to do something that she hadn't truly done for a long, long while: play.

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**A/N: Has anybody else noticed that no one reviews on Sundays? Do people take a day of rest from smut, or something? If so: you all are **_**so **_**good. That is why I have a problem. And you don't. Stay healthy, everyone. And review the other 6 days of the week, please!**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Fluff! Can you handle it?**

**This chapter is actually a little light on the smut, for me, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. I just can't seem to stop the relationship development stuff. I just want to give B&B each big kisses, then send them right back to bed.**

**Stine111, who wanted to see Brennan doing something nice for Booth as a way to express all those currently un-expressible feelings…this is for you. Many waterfalls of thanks.**

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While she had been initially reluctant to join Angela at the art show this Wednesday evening, by the end of the night she had to admit to being inspired by the creativity she had witnessed there. Once she had stopped trying to make sense of the abstract paintings, she had begun to appreciate the true beauty of the illogical. Her favorite works were those that were studies in contrast; colors and shapes that shouldn't possibly go together, but had somehow been brought into harmony and wholeness by the talented artists who created them. Temperance Brennan was not completely immune to aesthetics. She typically found loveliness in the bones she studied, which made her different from others. However, tonight she made a special effort to see the value in the art of the living.

After the show, she and Angela went out for coffee, and they spent some time talking about the work they had seen. Not surprisingly, Brennan had drawn different meanings from it than did her friend, but Angela assured her that this was okay. "That's the great thing about art—everybody's opinions are valid. All that matters is how it made _you _feel," she told her. She accepted this explanation somewhat more easily than she might have a month ago.

Eventually, they fell into a companionable silence, sipping their coffee and musing over their reactions to the art. Brennan felt her thoughts began to free-associate. Studies in contrast. Harmony out of cacophony. Her and Booth.

"Hey, Ange?" Her friend raised an eyebrow in acknowledgement. She gazed down into her mug thoughtfully. "What do you do when you want to do something romantic for Hodgins?"

Angela grinned at the question. "Oh, Sweetie. I have lots of tricks up my sleeve. I have this little nurse's outfit that just drives him nuts. We pretend like he's all helpless and injured at the hospital, and I have to give him a sponge bath…"

"No, no, not like that," Brennan interrupted, and Angela looked slightly disappointed. "Not like…the sex. That part I get. But the _romance_," she explained. "The whole courtship ritual thing. How do you make that work?"

"Ah." Understanding came to her friend's eyes. "The stuff that comes before and between the sex. I get it." She leaned back, studying Brennan. "Do you really want to know what it is that Jack and I do? Or are you wondering what you can do for Booth?"

Brennan suddenly felt a little embarrassed. "I guess so," she said, warming her hands around her mug. "He's just so _good _at it. He can just talk about how he's feeling, or do all these things like bring me flowers and make me breakfast and wash my hair…"

"Awww," Angela sighed, clasping her hands and making moony eyes. Brennan ignored her.

"…but things like that just don't even occur to me. He's this romantic, knight-in-shining-armor kind of guy, but whenever he displays it, I'm just feel like…huh?" She pursed her lips in thought and shrugged. "I want to be able to make him happy, like he makes me happy. But I'm really just clueless about it." She laughed, a little sadly. "I feel like such a defective person sometimes."

"Hey. You are _not _defective," Angela said firmly. "And I'm sure you do make him happy, in lots of ways. _But, _it's really sweet that you want to do romantic things for him, even though it doesn't necessarily come naturally. Actually, it's kind of amazing that you are willing to do that, to make him feel good." She grinned broadly, and nudged her friend on the shoulder. "You really _like _him, don't you?"

Brennan flushed. "You could say that," she murmured. Then, finally looking Angela in the eye: "So, what do I do? How do I do that?"

She sighed. "Well, Sweetie…I'm not going to sit here and give you a list. Because my list isn't going to be the same as your list."

"I was afraid you were going to say something like that." Brennan leaned back, resigned.

"Nooo…all I'm saying is that no matter what you think, you know better than I do." She sat her mug down, giving her friend her full attention. "You really want my advice? Just…do something unexpected, out of the ordinary. Something _good. _Because that's what romance is. It's switching things up a little, just to make someone else happy. And that could be just about anything. It could be doing the laundry. Giving a foot rub. Stargazing." She smiled. "Even my little nurse's outfit can be romantic, under the right conditions."

Brennan laughed softly.

"Look, Sweetie…you may or may not know romance. But you _do _know Booth. And that's really all you need to blow his mind," she asserted.

Brennan shook her head slowly. "So how did you get so smart?"

"Hey. We all have our talents. You've got your bones, your karate, your 10 different languages, and God only knows what else. I've got a knack for art, and love. So…if you will kick someone's ass if they come after me, and be my translator when I travel, I will draw for you and give you some relationship advice now and then."

"Sounds fair." She extended her hand across the table, and Angela shook it. They grinned at one another, and Brennan felt a surge of gratitude towards one of the two people in the world with whom she trusted her life.

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Bright and early Saturday morning, Brennan woke up, showered, and busied herself with preparations, while Booth continued to snooze in the bedroom. She was thrilled that the weather appeared to be cooperating with her plans…there was not a rain cloud in sight. It was a little warm—ok, hot—but this was summer, and to be expected. When she had everything spread out before her, she felt a sudden flutter of self-doubt inside of her. She rarely even treated _herself _to so much frivolity, let alone another person. Pushing the worry aside, she packed everything away, and felt a little better once it didn't look like _so much _anymore.

Finally, she went to wake Booth. She hovered over him, whispering until he began to stir.

"What time is it?" he asked, sounding like a sleepy child.

"It's after six."

"_Six? _Aww, Bones, it's the weekend. We don't _have _to get up now." She had to hold back a chuckle at his pouting. "Un_less…_" His arms encircled her waist and pulled her to the bed. Eyes still closed, he buried his face into her, kissing her neck and holding her against him. She laughed and struggled a bit against him. He was warm with sleep and he smelled so good, and it was tempting to just give in, spend the morning wrapped up together like this. But…she gathered her resolve. Having sex with him here and now would definitely _not _be out of the ordinary.

"Come on, Booth." She squirmed against his kisses and managed to free herself. "There's something I want to do today."

He muttered complainingly, pulling the sheet over his head.

"It'll be worth getting up for. I promise."

He peered out from under the sheet with one eye. "You sure? It would have to be pretty good."

She _hoped _it would be that good. "Cross my heart." She nudged him. "Now come on. I'd like to leave in a half hour. And dress comfortably…we're going to be walking a lot."

After a little more grumbling, he had complied. After a shower, a cup of coffee, and an English muffin, he was much better company in the car. The nice thing was, when he had no idea where there were going, he had no choice but to relax and let her do the driving. He half-heartedly tried to get their destination out of her along the way, upping his efforts as they passed the city limits and crossed over the Virginia border.

"Where are you taking me, Bones? I'm usually the one spiriting _you _off to bizarre remote locations." He glanced out the window at the increasingly wooded surroundings, and looked back at her with mock suspicion. "You're not taking me out here to kill me and dispose of my body, are you?"

She smiled enigmatically.

"Great," he sighed, leaning back in his seat. "Just when things were starting to get good…she kills me."

"Just relax, Booth, and you might just survive the afternoon."

About an hour and a half after they left, he began to see signs that hinted at their surroundings. He perked up. "Shenandoah Park? Nice!"

She glanced over at him. "Have you been here before?"

"Yeah. But not in this location." He looked around as they passed more and more stops along the trail. "And, I'm pretty sure, never this deep."

"Oh, we are going _deep," _she proclaimed. After about 15 more minutes, she finally pulled off. "This is where we start." There were a few other cars in the lot. The NPS sign marking the location labeled it Whiteoak Canyon.

"Wow, this is gorgeous," he marveled, taking in the forest that lay before them. She busied herself removing all the necessary items from the trunk. Her backpack was huge, and she had to struggle to fasten it securely around her. He looked back at her with concern.

"What is all that? You want me to carry it?"

"No. It's not that heavy. Just bulky." She slammed the trunk shut. "Have you got your water?"

"Check." Holding up his bottle.

"The GPS system?"

"Check."

"Your macho woodsman persona?"

He grinned. "Check…always."

"Alright then. Let's go."

They headed down the trail. It really _was _gorgeous…as much as she had remembered. Along the way, they pointed out the trees and the plants, trying to identify them. There were several small creeks running by the trail, and they stopped by them, watching the fish dart across. They crouched by one pool of water that was sheltered from the flow of the creek, and watched in fascination the thousands of tadpoles swimming there.

"Does the world really need this many frogs?" he asked incredulously.

She nodded. "They are a very important part of the ecosystem. Besides, not all these little guys are going to make it."

He looked wounded. "Aww. Don't tell me that."

She laughed. "Booth. They are _tadpoles._"

"I know that," he said, shooting her a glare. "But still…they're kind of cute, don't you think?"

She shook her head ruefully. "Come on, tough guy. We still have a ways to go."

The further they went down the trail, the more difficult the hike was, and the fewer people they passed. Eventually, she paused. "Let me see the GPS system." She checked on their coordinates. "Ah." She brightened. "Right up ahead."

He looked ahead confusedly. There wasn't anything there.

She took a few paces forward, then turned to the left. "We have to go this way."

"Huh?" He looked into the woods. "We're going off the trail?"

"Yes."

"I don't know, Bones." His eyes darted around nervously. "I didn't sign up to get lost in the woods and get eaten by wild animals."

"We won't get lost." She waved the GPS in front of him. "And nobody's going to get eaten." She forged ahead. Reluctantly, he followed her.

It was a little more difficult maneuvering off the trail; it took some skill hike the growing decline through the foliage. They had to step carefully, and stop a few times to catch their breath.

"You sure do know how to make a guy work, don't you?" he asked before gulping his water. A patina of perspiration covered their faces.

"Didn't I promise you this would be worth it? Come on, let's get back on track."

He was continuously amazed by the energy of this woman. His legs were tired, and he wasn't even the one carrying the monster backpack. After hiking another ten minutes, her ears perked up. "You hear that?" He strained to pick up what she was hearing. It took a moment, but he finally got it. The sound of rushing water. "We're almost there."

They plodded forth, and the sound got louder. Just when he was about ready to say uncle and demand another break, she cried out in triumph. "Right up here!"

She pushed the branches in front of her out of the way. He lumbered down the hill behind her, and looked over her shoulder.

His fatigue was forgotten. His mouth dropped open.

Past the clearing, the stream flowed down the side of the mountain. It rushed to the ridge in front of them…then cascaded downwards more than 60 feet below, where a cloud of mist hovered at the point of impact. Now that they were right on top of it, he couldn't believe he didn't recognize the sound of the waterfall beforehand.

"Oh, Temperance," he murmured. "It's beautiful."

She turned her eyes from the falls and smiled in pleasure at his awed expression. "Isn't it? I thought you'd like it." After another minute of gazing, she said, "Let's get closer. Be careful."

They walked cautiously to the ridge's edge, peering over at the almost dizzying site of the falling water. "Whiteoak Canyon has six waterfalls. This one isn't the biggest, or the fastest. But it _is _the most private. Nobody leaves the trail to come here."

He looked over at her, a slow smile spreading across his face. "How did you find this place?"

"I helped with some excavation work here awhile ago. These forests used to be populated by Indians, and we were recovering their remains. This was a real hotspot." She pointed along the length of the ridge. "Right here was one of the places they would hunt. They would chase animals through the forest to the edge of this dropoff here. Then they would force them to jump off the cliff to the ground below, and collect the meat there."

He grimaced at the sight of the jagged rocks to either side of the falls. "That's no good…for the animals."

She laughed. "That's why I brought alternative provisions for today. Come on…let's start climbing."

"We are going the whole way down?" he asked disbelievingly.

"We didn't come all the way here not to see the falls face-to-face." She dug through the pocket of her backpack and pulled out a bungee cord. Wrapping it securely around a large boulder, she tested the slack, pulling hard. "Here, this will help make sure we don't fall."

The descent wasn't quite as bad as he had anticipated. The incline wasn't terribly steep, so by holding onto the rope and carefully putting one foot behind the other, they were able to lower themselves down in about 15 minutes.

When they finally reached the base of the cliff, Booth stared at the view while Brennan divested herself of the backpack, sighing in relief to be free again. She rubbed her back and looked at him expectantly."

Suddenly, he let out a whoop and pumped his fist in the air. Laughing, he ran towards her, grabbed her, and lifted her up in the air before crushing her in a hug. She had been right; they couldn't have possibly come here without getting this experience. The view from above was awe-provoking; but being down here, the water crashing right next to them, feeling the refreshing mist on their faces, surrounded by the wilderness, was paradise.

"This is so amazing, babe. Thank you so much for bringing me here," he whispered against her.

She felt pride surge up inside of her, and she beamed. "You're welcome." He pulled his face away from her and looked at her so lovingly that she felt a little uncomfortable. "We've got lots of time to explore later…are you hungry now?"

He had momentarily forgotten about his rumbling stomach and weary legs. "Absolutely starving."

They moved closer to the wood's edge, away from the falls, to avoid being sprayed while they tried to eat and so they could hear each other easily. She pulled a blanket out of the backpack and spread it on the grass. Booth immediately collapsed on it, stretching out his legs. His eyes widened curiously, then with amazement, as she began to pluck one item after another from the bag. The woman had really gone all out.

Grilled chipotle chicken sandwiches on focaccia bread. Three-pepper pasta salad. An assortment of fruits with yogurt dipping sauce. Et cetera. Lastly, she pulled out a bottle of Kim Crawford Marlborough sauvignon blanc. His mouth began to water as she opened insulated containers and he could smell the food. God, he was hungry.

"And leave room for dessert," she told him.

He shook his head. "You are an angel," he told her, half-serious. "I can't believe you did all of this."

She looked down, abashed. "Yeah, well…not a big deal."

It _was _abig deal, and he knew it. He pulled her face to his. "Thank you," he whispered before kissing her tenderly. When they separated, he grinned at her. "I think I have a special request for dessert." She let him kiss her for awhile longer before playfully pushing him away.

"Like I said…we have time to explore later. Let's eat now."

They did, ravenously, replenishing the energy they had burned on the way to this beautiful, isolated spot. They talked easily, occasionally quieting to watch various forms of wildlife peering at them curiously from the woods before scampering away (thankfully, nothing larger or more dangerous than a big doe). They fed each other grapes and savored the taste of the tropical-tasting wine, which helped to soothe their tongues from some of the spicier foods they had. She was slightly astonished at how easily this particular form of romance was coming to her.

When they finished, they laid side-by-side on the blanket, relaxed by their full bellies, the sound of the falls, and the warmth of the day.

"I am very satisfied right now," he announced, his eyes closed.

"Me too," she sighed. She had done this for him, but hadn't been expecting how good it would make her feel as well.

After some time past, she became more aware of the temperature, having been distracted before by their hike and the food. She pulled at her t-shirt, which was clinging to her slightly. "I'm hot."

"Yes, you are," he agreed. She rolled her eyes at him.

"It is kind of warm. We should go back and sit by the falls."

She looked over at the falls. Cool, inviting…

"Or…" she paused.

His eyes lit up. "Could we?"

A mischievous smile crossed her lips. "Well…we should be alone here, as long as no other excavation crews come through today…"

They looked at each other, and paused. Then, Booth leaped up. "Race you."

"No fair! Head start!" she cried as she stumbled to her feet. They ran towards the pool at the base of the falls, pulling off their outer layers of clothes along the way. As he pulled off his pants, she grabbed the material around his legs and yanked, sending him off balance; he fell onto his butt with a thump. She pulled off her shirt and tossed it on him. "I win!" she shouted triumphantly, preparing to jump in the water.

"No you don't." Kicking off his pants, he made a surprisingly graceful leap to his feet and grabbed at her. Laughing, they fell into the water together, clad in their underwear.

The water felt divine. "You fight dirty," he accused.

"I learned from the best," she shot back. She swam away from him, towards the falls, and, as he always felt compelled to do, he followed her.

They frolicked for awhile, swimming and splashing one another, standing under the cascade of water and letting it rinse them clean while they hid from each other behind the falls. When their burst of silliness got out of the way, they calmed a bit, floating together, holding each other, and kissing in the cloud of mist. In the back of her mind, she thought of how postcard-perfect this picture of them would be, should they be wearing something a little more appropriate for photographing.

Eventually cooled, they made their way back to the blanket, dripping and laughing. "I didn't bring any towels. We'll have to sun ourselves dry. Like turtles. Or snakes."

This struck him as particularly funny. "That's ok…didn't I tell you, my favorite Dr. Brennan is a wet Dr. Brennan?"

"You did tell me that," she agreed. They sat on the blanket. She shivered a little, and he moved over, putting his arm around her.

"This is incredible," he told her. "You're telling me that there are more of these around here?"

"Yes. Lots of them. Most of them much more well-traveled than this one."

He looked about thoughtfully. "You know who would love this? Parker. The falls, and the creatures, and the nature…he'd have a blast."

"Hmm," she said, leaning her head against his shoulder. "Well…maybe we'll have to bring him sometime."

He looked down at her, trying not to act too surprised. "Really?"

"Sure. Of course, I think it would be wise with a 5-year-old to stick to the trails and _not _be rappelling down the sides of cliffs. But…I agree. He'd like it." She folded her legs up to her torso and hugged her knees. "So would I."

Growing a little disquieted by the following silence, she looked up at him with a small smile. "What?"

He was looking at her intensely. "I love you so much," he said softly.

She looked back down again. He took it as a good sign that she was still smiling.

"Sorry," he said, squeezing her. "I just can't help myself."

"No…it's ok. Don't apologize." She glanced back up at him. "Just because I'm not very good at this doesn't mean that you shouldn't be."

"I don't know. I think you might be better at 'this' than you give yourself credit for."

She sighed. "I just want you to know…I planned today, for us, because I've always been more comfortable with doing than with feeling. We're here because this place made me feel something. And you do too." She wrung her hands a little nervously, but made herself look into his eyes. "You mean so much to me, Seeley. So much that it feels really complicated to me, because I'm not used to feeling like this. But I _know _it's probably not as complicated as I'm making it out to be for myself. Hopefully, sometime soon, that light switch will flick on for me. Until then…" She glanced at the beauty around them. "I give you picnics and waterfalls."

Putting both hands on her shoulders, he turned her to face him fully. She looked up at him.

"I'll take it," he whispered. She smiled into his mouth as he kissed her, wrapping her arms around him and feeling the goosebumps on his skin where it was drying. They kissed until they were both breathless, and she found herself still shaking, although she wasn't entirely sure if it was from the cold anymore.

His forehead leaned on hers. "Can I have my dessert now?"

"If anyone ever asks, I never said this. But right now, you can have most anything you want."

He laughed softly, sensually. "I said it before, and I'll say it again. All I want is you."

She climbed into his lap, facing him with her legs wrapped around his back. She held him and kissed him with all the energy behind the falls, and behind all the emotions she couldn't yet put into words, and moaned as she felt his body begin to respond under hers. He reached behind her as he kissed her throat and unhooked her wet bra, pulling back just a bit to peel it off of her skin. Her stiff nipples seemed to beckon to him, and he gazed at her as if she was as majestic as any of the natural wonders surrounding them. He allowed her to lean back against the palms of his hands while he kissed and licked her breasts softly, loving the feeling of her heart beating faster against his mouth.

She put her hands back down on the wet blanket between his legs, lifting to allow him to pull his shorts down; once they were down over his hips, she immediately sat up again so she could rub her body against him intimately, breast to chest, sex to sex, mouth to mouth. The mist from the falls settled onto their skin, making them feel as if they were part of the paradise. They were wild things, and belonged here as much as the water or the trees or the animals.

"Thank you for all you have given me," she whispered, as she touched him and guided him inside her.

"There are so few things that I wouldn't give for you." His head fell back and he shuddered at the feeling of her encasing him while the sun shone on their damp skin.

She kissed his exposed neck as she began to move. "I feel the same." She clasped his head between her hands and forced him to look at her while she rocked against him more and more feverishly. She whimpered, but kept her eyes open, making herself look into him with all the intensity of what she felt. _"I feel the same."_

They gasped and gave into the untamed rhythm that was as old as the falls themselves, the sounds of their cries drowned in the rush of the crashing water behind them. Their orgasms were no less powerful. In that moment she knew that if this was what romance was made of, she would always be hungry for it, until the falls ran dry. And it would never be anything close to ordinary.

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**A/N: My sources tell me that there is such a place as Whiteoak Canyon, with its many waterfalls, in Shenandoah Park, although I have not had the pleasure to have been there myself. Right now I want to desperately, to see if it is anything like I imagine.**

**Review if you love B&B!**


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Here ya go, JJagged. I completely agree that the couch must be christened. It's just fate. Can't fight fate.**

**To all: I am moving out-of-state very soon, so as I go through all the packing/preparing/settling in rigmarole, my updates are likely going to be fewer and further in between for a little while. I'll do my best to do at least one new chapter a week. Once all is moved, I'll have one more month until it's back to reality (AKA work)! But we don't like to talk about that right now. **

**Please enjoy and review.**

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"Ah, the future Mr. and Mrs. Hodgins. How are you doing on this fine day?"

Angela gave Booth a withering look. "That's Mr. and Mrs. _Montenegro-_Hodgins, FYI."

Jack grinned and rubbed his fiancee's arm soothingly. "_I _am doing just fine, my man. As for the future Mrs. Montenegro-Hodgins…I can't speak for her. Or maybe I could, but I don't want to risk the consequences."

His fiancé elbowed him in the side. "I am doing great, Booth. Although…" She gave him a sly look, observing the relaxed smile on his face. "Obviously, not as good as you." Her attempt at embarrassment fell on deaf ears, so she gave up. "You here at the lab for business or pleasure?"

"I am one of the few people in the world for whom the two are the same," Booth replied seriously. "I love my job."

Angela rolled her eyes. "If I didn't think you were so cute, you would seriously disgust me." She headed across the platform toward her office, her hips swaying along the way.

Hodgins gave a small chuckle.

Booth looked at him worriedly. "Am I disgusting?"

"Yup. Don't worry about it, though. Everyone in a new relationship is disgusting. It's like all those bodily chemicals that it stirs up causes saccharine to drip from your pores."

He considered this for a second then shrugged it off, half-satisfied with the explanation.

"Seriously though, man? If you do have any case stuff for Dr. Brennan, I'd postpone it just for a little while. She's been working all morning, haven't even seen her come out of her office. She's like an anthropology _machine._"

"Really? If a squint is saying she's working too hard, she must be." Booth looked concerned, then looked at his watch. "I'll try to convince her to get out of here for lunchtime."

Hodgins raised an eyebrow. "It's 3 in the afternoon."

"Whatever. Snacktime, then," he said, walking away towards Brennan's office.

When he entered, his partner was indeed engrossed in her work; so much so that she did not recognize his presence until he was practically right next to her. She was frowning at some paperwork on her desk. There was a dense stack of similar-looking files next to her. Apparently, she hadn't been intending on taking a break any time soon.

He considered surprising her with a hand on her shoulder, then decided (much like Hodgins earlier) that the potential consequences—mostly him sprawled out on the floor with a black eye—were not worth it. He cleared his throat to make his presence known.

She looked up in surprise at the undetected invasion of her sanctuary. When she identified her visitor, she gave a slight smile. "Booth." She looked back down at her task. "Do we have a case?"

"Nope." Perching on the edge of her desk, he competed for her attention. "My sources tell me that you are working yourself to death in here."

"Just working hard, Booth. I have dozens of things to catch up on." She glanced up him. "It's not helping that I don't spend as many evenings and weekends here as I used to."

"You're blaming me for making you be less of a workaholic? Because I'm ok with taking credit for that."

She sighed, fighting her amusement with him. "So is there something I can do for you? Or were you just bored?"

"Well, I _was _planning on coming to talk to you about some of the last details of the Hertz case. But now I think it's more important to pry you away from that desk. One day I'm going to find you here all mummified and cobwebby like those old bones in the bone room. All desiccated because you refused to move or eat or drink."

She looked offended. "Those bones aren't cobwebby. They are all clean and prepared for examination."

"You're missing the point, Bones."

Her eyes rolled. She pushed her chair back slightly to regard him more fully. "Look…if it makes you feel better…I ate a little something at one. I make sure to stay hydrated all day." She shook the thermos beside her on the desk. "And I get up and stretch once an hour. So you don't have to worry about me. Desiccation is pretty far off." She tilted her head from one side to the other. "The worst that happens are the little tension headaches I get from looking…"

"From squinting?" he asked helpfully.

"From _looking _at this fine print all day."

"You need to stop looking for awhile then."

"I'm not leaving this office, Booth."

"Fine. We will take a break in this office." He hopped off the desk and walked to the door, closing it and locking it. He then circled back behind her.

"I really don't have time for…ooohhh." Her words trailed off as he began to rub her neck and shoulders, squeezing the muscles there deeply.

"You were saying?"

She wanted to shoo him away just for the principle of the thing, but the kneading of her tense muscles felt incredible, and she felt the small but insistent throbbing of her temples begin to ease a bit at his touch. "Maybe just a short break," she mumbled, her eyes closing.

He smiled triumphantly. "Come here." She let out a noise of displeasure as he stopped his ministrations and held out his hand to her. "Settle down. It will get better, promise."

She allowed him to lead her to her couch and remove her lab coat, and complied as he urged her with his hands to lie on her stomach. "You really shouldn't be distracting me like this."

"Ah. Well I'll stop then."

"Stop and I'll kill you."

He chuckled. "Then quit the complaining."

There was no more complaining as he sat next to her and gently massaged her temples, and then worked his way down the back of her neck, her shoulders and arms, and her spinal column and her lower back. Her sighs and coos guided him to the right places with just the right amount of pressure, and he found himself very much enjoying this experience, as he always did when giving her pleasure of any kind. It occurred to him that this was the most intimately he had ever touched her in this office. A little thrill went through his body at this; here they were, in the very place they had collaborated and argued so many times before. The place where, a million times, he had watched in fascination as she worked and wondered if she would be so eloquent if he, in frustration, just grabbed her and tongue-kissed her into oblivion. Now in that room, he ran his hands down the back of her body, innocently enough but with a new familiarity that continued to amaze him.

Unable to resist, he lifted her hair and laid it to one side. As the thumb of his other hand continued to press and rub the knots in her back, he lowered his head and kissed the back of her neck, breathing deeply of her. She turned her head to the side, and he leaned down to kiss her gently on the lips. He was shocked by the desire that coursed through him at this. What was it about this place? Maybe it was being on what was so much _her _territory, the place that personified everything she was. Maybe it was knowing that, outside the office door, were her colleagues, who didn't see the passion that laid beneath the surface of her cool, scientific exterior like he did. Maybe it was just because she was so fucking hot. For whatever reason, his body had begun responding as if she were already naked and spread out in front of him. From the small sounds she was making in the back of her throat as he kissed her, she was feeling similarly.

She pulled back a bit from his lips and smiled lazily at him. "We shouldn't kiss on the job." Said unconvincingly.

"We're not on the job. We're taking a break, remember?"

"You are the king of loopholes, Seeley Booth."

He ran his fingers up and down the backs of her bare arms as he kissed her again, sending shivers through her. He whispered in her ear. "I'll stop if you really want me to. This is your place, not mine. I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

Of the feelings going through her right now, uncomfortable wasn't one of them. Her body felt relaxed and languid, and his touch seemed to drive all the worries from her mind. She gazed at him thoughtfully; she had kicked men out of her office for touching her much less than he was now, ostensibly because it was unprofessional. But Booth wasn't just any other man, was he?

She flipped around to her back, looking at him more fully. She could see longing in his eyes, and wasn't completely sure whether it was his, or her own being reflected. When he wasn't here, she fell fairly easily into her professional routines. She should have known better than to let him touch her here. Her cravings, kept in check during the day, were awoken ferociously. "Mmm. I'll give you a little time to convince me not to stop you."

With her permission, the rein he had keeping on his desire was loosened considerably. He brought his mouth back to hers, kissing her more deeply this time while his fingers stroked her hair. His upper body was half-leaning against hers. "I've been thinking all day about how you feel underneath me," he whispered. At his words, she urged him with her hands to lie more fully on top of her.

This was a different experience, their bodies pressed against each other from head to toe as they were while they were making love, but all their clothes were still on. Eventually, this might feel frustrating, but right now it seemed a little exciting. They touched each other the best they could; one of his hands squeezed her breast through her shirt and bra while his other tugged her top from under her waistband and stroked the bare skin it exposed across her belly. She grabbed his ass through his pants and encouraged him to nestle his growing hardness against her. Quickly their breathing became heavier.

She laughed softly, breathlessly, against his lips. "I feel like a teenager getting felt up for the first time."

"Yeah," he agreed. "And you have to be quiet so your parents in the other room don't hear." After he said it, he regretted it, remembering that she likely never experienced that particular rite of passage. Luckily, she seemed to get the concept without dwelling on it, and she kissed him hard again while her hands pulled at his shirt so she could rub the smooth skin of his back. "How long do you suppose we have before people get suspicious?"

"Probably about 15 minutes." She grinned against his lips. "What can you do in that time?"

"Lots of good stuff," he promised. He nipped at her neck, while his fingers crept under her shirt ever closer to her bra. "If you'll let me."

In reply, she wriggled underneath him, trying to get her arms in a position where she could lift her shirt. Sensing her struggle, he lifted a bit and helped her pull it up so her chest was exposed, but the shirt could easily be pulled back down at a moment's notice. Seeing her breasts held in place only by the lacy material of her bra, his excitement increased, and he began rubbing his lower body against hers harder. '_Easy, Seel. Much more of this and that 15 minutes will be over before you even get your pants off.' _Seemingly unaware of his predicament, she pressed back against him, biting his shoulder lightly to muffle her moan when he squeezed her nipple through her bra. And again, when he reached down and stroked her thighs. She had worn another skirt today. Thank God she hadn't stopped when he called her on it during their fight a few weeks ago. He really _did _feel like a teenager, fooling around in this previously forbidden place while he struggled for control so that he wouldn't embarrass himself.

"Here," he whispered, as he crawled off of her and urged her to sit up. While she switched positions, he pushed up her skirt with the palms of his hands. He kneeled on the floor in front of her, and oh God, this was going to be a fantasy come to life. He peeled her panties off of her and down her legs. He tossed them aside.

She sighed as he nuzzled her inner thighs while she leaned against the back of the couch. She had a perfect view of him, and it struck her as particularly hot to see his face between her legs while her oh-so-professional skirt was pushed up around her hips and her shirt lifted. When had she become this wanton, hypersexual person? A few months ago, she would have considered this position slightly degrading, outside the realm of her fantasy-life. Now, it seemed too sexy for words. What was different?

'_Trust,' _Little Voicy told her. It was right. When was the last time she trusted someone enough to be this vulnerable with them, to let them in professionally and personally and in every other aspect of her life? She beat Little Voicy to the punch, answering for herself: 'Never.'

Thought abandoned her as she felt his lips touch her bare, sensitive flesh. She sighed as he lightly traced his tongue around her inner lips, filling her with a deep, hot pleasure. He ignored her clit at first, which was swollen and begging for attention, choosing instead to tongue her opening, which was already wet with her own sweet juices. He swept his tongue with long laps from the bottom of her vulva to the top, pausing every so often to thrust it inside of her as far as it would go. When he felt her grip on his hair become more demanding, he made sure that each of his long tongue strokes flicked the underside of her clitoris each time on its way up.

She couldn't help it. She moaned, and he quickly clapped a hand over her mouth to silence her cries, while continuing to work her over with his tongue and mouth. She was grateful for his hand, and thought of another way she could use it to pacify herself. Grasping it, she pulled it away slightly, then drew one of his large fingers into her mouth and began sucking. Her vocalizations became more frequent, but muffled.

God she drove him crazy. He had been doing pretty well at concentrating on teasing her, but feeling her hot sucking mouth on his fingers effectively reminded him of his own throbbing cock, confined in his pants. She swirled her tongue around the pad of one finger, and he could easily remember her making the same motions against his erection while he convulsed in pleasure underneath her. Groaning at the memory, he redoubled his efforts, flicking his tongue against her clit faster while using the fingers of his other hand to tease her opening.

She let his hand fall from her mouth as she pumped against him, moaning as softly as her body would allow. "Seeley. I want you now. _Now,_" she demanded forcefully. "All of you."

Thank God. He pulled back from her now-soaking entrance, catching his breath while kissing her thighs. She bucked impatiently.

"Ok, baby. Ok." He stood on slightly trembling legs and circled behind the couch. "Get up here." He patted the top of the backrest.

Well, she hadn't been expecting _that,_ but she wasn't about to argue. She scrambled to sit where he had indicated, quickly moving into position facing him while he supported her back with his arms. She wrapped her long legs around his hips while he worked on freeing himself from his pants. Once they fell, she eagerly tightened her grip around him with her legs, crossing her ankles behind his back.

He let out a husky chuckle at her eagerness, trying to pretend as if it wasn't matched by his own. He would have liked to spend some more time teasing her, but did not because they didn't have much time, and because he wasn't entirely sure she wouldn't follow through with her threat to kill him. He slid up and into her slowly, deliberately, and her upper body arched back into his hands as she whimpered. Oh, yeah.

He rested there for a moment, becoming reintroduced to the always-surprising ecstasy of her tight fit.

"Seeley?" she asked.

"Yeah, babe." He raised to his toes so that he could fit into her as snugly as possible, and his body gave a twinge at the delicious friction of the movement.

"I need you to kiss me so I don't scream."

He was unable to remain still at the sound of her words. He crushed his mouth against her, holding her up with one hand, bracing himself against the back of the couch with the other, and began to smoothly pump in and out of her tight paradise. He swallowed her cries. The people outside the office door were forgotten, as were any of the other details of their surroundings. The only things that existed at this moment were their needy bodies, straining against one another.

He pulled her closer, so that she could rub herself against his pubic bone on every inward thrust.

"Oh, perfect," she breathed against his lips. "That's good. That's so good, baby."

When she called him baby, something inside him snapped, leaving him utterly unable to control himself. He had to kiss her harder to keep from screaming himself as his hips took on a mind of their own, pistoning his cock in and out of her trembling center. She was already close, and the sudden increase of speed and friction took her by surprise, sending her into orgasm before she was even quite ready for it. As it turned out this was a fortunate turn of events, as her partner, unable to bear another minute, pulled her hips to his once more and held her there, exploding inside her. She squeezed her legs around him, prolonging the contact as the upsurge of sensation flowed from her into him and back again. The pleasure was unreal, even as it began to ebb. Their hearts pounded against one another and they kept their lips pressed together until they were both able to stop moaning with the force of their climax.

She clung to him for a bit, before releasing him from the grip of her legs. She leaned back, holding herself up with her arms around his shoulders, and smiled at him. He loved that smile…that sexy, satisfied smile. He loved it almost as much as the sex itself. Almost. He pulled her back one more time for a kiss before pulling away from her, separating them. He supported her until he was certain she could stand.

She pulled down her top and smoothed down her skirt, while he adjusted his pants. "That was a good break," she told him.

"The best," he agreed. He looked back down at the couch, sure that he would never see it the same way again. Dangerous, dangerous games they were playing here. It's always dangerous to put something in motion that you aren't sure you can stop. Some old adage that he had heard somewhere occurred to him: 'Ships are safe in the harbor. But that's not what ships are for."

Their moment of quiet recovery was interrupted by a knock at the door. "Dr. Brennan? We need your help out in the lab." Zack's voice.

They looked at each other and grinned. "I suppose his timing could really have been much worse," Booth conceded.

"It's probably better that way. If this 'break' lasted any longer, I might feel guilty."

"Fair enough. For now" He gave her another lingering kiss. "We may have an extended break tonight."

He took a deep breath, adjusted himself once more, then turned the doorknob and walked out through the lab. He tried not to swagger too much as Dr. Brennan's colleagues watched him leave. "Couldn't get her to get out of here for a break, huh?" Hodgins said sympathetically. "At least you tried."

"All you can do is try, right?" he said seriously.

"Booth!" He turned back at the sound of his name. His partner came running up to him from out of her office. "You forgot something." So quick as to almost be unnoticeable, her hand shot out and she dropped something into his pocket. She gave him a last smile. "I'll see you later," she called, while walking back towards her colleagues.

He reached into his pocket and felt furtively. Silk. Lace. It was the panties that he had so carelessly tossed on the floor.

He didn't know whether to laugh or cry. It had been a long morning without her. Now, this little souvenir was going to assure that it would be a long afternoon. Shaking his head, he walked towards the door, musing about this strange spell which had captivated him and kept him so firmly in its grasp. He both feared and hoped that it would never end.

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**A/N: I know…B&B are just completely prosh. Love them.**

**Did any of y'all spoiler-lovin' folks read the sides available for season 2 yet? Did they make you practically wet yourself from laughing so hard? They did me.**

**Review that stuff. Review it harder. Longer. Now!**


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: What do we hate? Packing! What do we do instead? Write! This was just a little diversion until I could regain my motivation again. And my tewtally awesome reviewers were so insistent on a little air action…who am I to deny them?**

**Reviews would be especially great right now. Gives me something to look forward to during breaks from dismantling our apartment. Thanks so much to all my readers.**

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They bickered most of the way to Dulles, about everything and nothing in particular. It felt like the old days, when frustration with their jobs and lives and each other most often translated into quarrels that were intended to release that tension. Of course, they typically only ended up exacerbating it. And now, as she explained to him in her infuriatingly clinical tone about how, even if the Bible _had _been the word of God, that thousands of years of translation after translation would have certainly by now turn it into, at best, an interesting work of fiction, he found himself trying to remember how he had dealt with her before they had started sleeping together.

"Bones," he interrupted her, "We obviously aren't going to resolve this issue. Let's just agree to disagree."

"Why? Can't you handle a little friendly discourse on the topic? Or do you find logic and empiricism too threatening to your system of beliefs?"

"No. I just find _your _logic and empiricism irritating. So I'm asking you as a favor to please stop talking."

She raised her eyebrows and looked out the window. How long would this flight be, 5 hours? It might as well been 5 days. It was going to be a long trip.

He knew what the problem was. On Wednesday and Thursday, she had been in Baltimore promoting her newest book. On Friday, he picked up Parker for the weekend. He had had fun with his little guy, and had begun the process of introducing him to the idea that Dr. Brennan might be starting to spend some time with them, starting with his next visit. Parker was a remarkably agreeable and sweet child, but Booth's heart still had pounded in his chest when he had asked his son if that would be ok with him. He had nearly passed out in relief when Parker gave him a big smile and said, "Sure, Daddy. She knows lots about bones and skeletons and stuff, right? Can she teach me about dinosaurs?" He didn't know if Bones knew anything about dinosaurs at all, but he was suddenly willing to spend the next two weeks learning about them himself and teaching her, so that his son would be impressed from the get-go.

In any case, these events added up to five-going-on-six days in which he and Bones hadn't spent any…quality time with each other. Now, Booth had certainly lasted a week without sex before. But this cold-turkey stuff… You couldn't go from having sex an average of twice a day for months at a time, then suddenly go without for a week with no consequences. And these were the consequences. The sexual tension between them, so recently relieved, had now been ratcheted back up, and with a long flight ahead of them to their next case they were dealing with it the way they had learned how: picking at each other to death.

She was quiet as they checked in, went through security, and sat in the terminal waiting for their evening departure. This was his punishment for silencing her when she was trying to express her opinions earlier. Now, he would get no conversation at all.

Once they had boarded the plane and had stowed their carry-on luggage in the overhead compartment, Booth struggled to get comfortable while Brennan immediately opened up her laptop. He looked at her disbelievingly.

"You're going to work?"

"We have a 5-hour flight ahead of us, Booth. It makes sense to try to do something productive with the time."

He shook his head, and continued to squirm in his seat. "You're going to have to put it away when we take off."

"Well, I can get 10 minutes worth of work done before that time," she said, effectively condemning him to 5 hours of upcoming boredom. He grumbled, and gave up for the moment.

Once they were in the air, he was still trying to find a comfortable position. "I hate the seating in here. It's impossible to sit without having your legs fall asleep. Everything is so cramped."

She looked over at him. "If you need more room, why don't you just go to one of the other rows? It's not like there are a lot of people on this flight." She gestured around to the open seats that surrounded them. "Then I won't be in your way." She sounded brusque, but he thought he could sense a little hurt behind her words.

"No," he said firmly. She looked back down at the screen of her laptop, but didn't go back to typing. He softened his tone. "Look…I'm sorry I've been a little snippy. Work has been stressful, and I miss Parker when he leaves. And I've really, really missed you. It's been hard not being able to be with you. I've been thinking about you all the time." He slid his hand onto her thigh, underneath the tray that held her laptop. "Can we just play nice?"

Her eyes rolled upwards while she fought a smile. Finally, she gave up the fight. "I've missed you too," she admitted. She squeezed his hand back. "When you aren't around, I fall back into all-work, no-play mode. It's hard to go from one to the other sometimes."

"Can we try?" he asked hopefully.

After a hesitation, she flipped down the screen of her laptop. "There you go." She lifted the tray and slid the computer underneath the seat in front of her, then unbuckled her seatbelt. They looked at each other expectantly for a moment, and then laughed. "Now what?" she asked.

"Now this," he replied, and wrapped his arms around her. It felt great. Nobody on the plane knew their work, knew they were partners. For the next five hours, they could just be a couple, _in public,_ and no one would question it. They would be foolish to miss this opportunity.

They talked for awhile. She told him about her promotion and book signing, and about the sometimes zealous fans who always fascinated and occasionally disturbed her. "Do you think they realize that my books are fiction? Because they act like they think it's real."

"That's a compliment to you. They _feel _like it's real. It gives them an opportunity to step out of their dull, ordinary lives and experience something exciting. That can be a very powerful experience."

She looked up at him. "Are we exciting?"

"We are _very _exciting," he told her seriously. "We do everything that is in your books, right? _Everything," _he finished lasciviously, and she elbowed him before snuggling closer against him.

He told her about his weekend with Parker. "He's looking forward to spending more time with you."

She laughed. "Why? Is it because I'm so _exciting_?"

"He knows you know all kinds of cool science stuff." He squeezed her a little tighter. "Do you know anything about dinosaurs?"

"Of course."

"Really? I didn't know if you would have studied those things."

"It's not my specialty, of course. But archeology is a very important component of anthropology. I had to take the classes along with everyone else. So if I see the bones, I know the difference between a Diplodocus and an Iguanodon."

Booth stared at her. "Sometimes I don't know whether to be amazed by you or annoyed. Why do you know everything?"

She smiled. "Go with amazement."

"I think I will. Especially given the fact that you are going to be my little boy's new hero."

Blushing, she buried into him a little deeper. "I'd settle for just being a new friend."

"That's not going to be a problem." He tipped her face up to look at him. "Promise," he said softly. He kissed her; their first real kiss since last Tuesday evening. At the touch of their lips, his body ached for her, his downward-rushing blood reminding him of just how long it had been since he touched her. She shivered a little in his arms, and he had to fight the urge to pull her into his lap and thrust his hands up her shirt.

"Beverage?" They looked up, a little guiltily, into the face of the flight attendant.

"Yes. Ice water," Booth said. "Very cold." Brennan held back a laugh.

"Here you are, sir. Ma'am?"

"No, I'm fine, thanks." Just wanting her to leave.

"Can I get anything else for you right now?"

She was about to say no, but Booth interrupted. "A blanket might be good." He turned towards her. "In case we decide to nap."

She looked at him doubtfully as the flight attendant hurried to fetch the requested item. "I don't know if I'm going to be able to sleep."

"We might as well be comfortable, anyway."

Once the attendant brought the blanket and he adjusted it to cover the two of them, she had to admit that it was extremely relaxing to be so enveloped, with her partner as her pillow. After some modifications of their position, she even managed to get somewhere close to comfortable, lying sideways with her head in his lap. As the daylight faded and the cabin darkened, she found herself being lulled to sleep by the humming of the engines and the feeling of his fingers gently stroking her hair.

She dreamt. In her dream, she was being ravished. She couldn't see; she was completely helpless in the dark, but her dream lover was playing her body like a violin. While she should have been terrified, she was not; the hands on her were demandingly expert, the touch of someone who knew intimately and uniquely how to stimulate her particular pleasure zones, and he was using this knowledge to keep her right on the edge. She wanted to cry out, tell her lover how amazing he was making her feel (was it a he? She couldn't see at all, but the presence felt distinctly masculine), how perfectly in tune with her he was. She knew that telling him this would be the trigger for her climax, which she desperately longed for. But when she opened her mouth, there were no words, no sound. Her screams of frustration echoed only in her own mind, while her dream lover remained oblivious to how much she needed him, needed this. So she remained on the edge, wondering if this sweetest of tensions would ever break…

She awoke with a start, jolted. She gasped.

"It's ok, babe. Just some turbulence." He had been listening to his iPod, but now pulled the headphone from his ear and rubbed her shoulder soothingly, noticing that she still seemed disturbed. "Did you have a nightmare?"

Sitting up, she shook her head dazedly. She felt hot all over, and she was wet, so wet, her body refusing to distinguish between her dreams and reality.

"You can lay back down if you want to. We've still got four hours to go, and might as well make it go as fast as possi…"

His words were cut off when she pressed a desperate kiss against his mouth, slipping her tongue past his lips and stroking him frantically. He pulled her close and tasted her desire, and it reawakened his own.

There was a 'ding,' and the voice of a cheerful stewardess asked them to buckle their seatbelts, as they were experiencing a patch of rough air.

They pulled away from one another reluctantly, faces now flushed. He smiled at her. "What did I do to deserve that?" he asked while rebuckling himself.

She shrugged, her body still tingling. "I missed you," she reminded him, buckling her own seatbelt, then leaning against him to snuggle again the best she could. "I missed lots of things about you."

For the first time, he recognized that her desire was as strong as his at this moment. He sighed, both enjoying and being tormented by the pressure of her body against his. He wanted to touch her more. Suddenly, he remembered his plan. How could have he forgotten? It must have been lost in the stress of the day, and in their bickering as they left work and prepared for their flight. Oh, yes. He had plans for her.

"Hey," he said. She tilted her head up to look at him. "How about some music? I have some good stuff on here." He held up his Nano.

She exhaled softly, knowing that there was no music that could soothe the ache within her right now. "Sure. If you don't mind sharing." Maybe, at least, it would distract her.

He fiddled with the buttons, apparently trying to find something specific. When he succeeded, he smiled. "Here." He placed the buds in her ears, then kissed the top of her head and helped her find a comfortable position with his arm around her. With his other hand, he adjusted the blanket over their laps for their new, seated position.

Trying to ignore the dull throbbing between her legs leftover from her dream, she tried to focus on the music. Dashboard Confessional….good choice. Willing her body to relax, she closed her eyes and listened. By the end of the song, the music and the warmth of his body next to hers had almost had her dozing off again.

"Temperance."

At the sound of her name, she became alert. She glanced up at him questioningly, then realized the words weren't coming from his lips right now. He smiled down at her knowingly, and squeezed her leg under the blanket.

The voice coming from her headphones continued to speak to her. "You've been away for two days now, and I know I won't see you for three more. And you wouldn't believe how long the days and nights are getting already. It's hard to sleep without you beside me. My pillow smells like you, and it drives me crazy every time I climb into bed."

Her growing smile told him that she was appreciating his little electronic diary entry, and he was glad. Now he just had to wait. He pulled her closer.

"There was a time I was afraid to touch you, because I knew that once I started I wouldn't be able to stop. While some of my fears about us were unjustified, that one was right on. I haven't been able to stop. And right now, with you not here, it's all I can think about. Your skin, under my hands and mouth."

Well, _this _wasn't helping her situation. Her desire pooled more intensely in her lower body. His fingertips were beginning to run, ever so delicately, along the seam of her pants against her inner thigh. His touch caused her skin to tingle.

"So, because I can't stop thinking about it, I wanted to remind myself of what it's going to be like when I see you again. And remind you, too, so that you can get ready for everything I've got for you. Just you listen, baby. It's going to be so good.

"Remember when I told you how much I loved your lips, how they are always on my mind? They are going to be the focus of my attention first. When I finally get to be with you again, all I'm going to want to do is kiss you. Feel those silky soft lips and that perfect mouth against mine. I'm going to be greedy, Temperance. I'm going to grab your hair and your ass and I'm going to pull you hard against me so that our whole bodies can feel that kiss. When my tongue finds yours, it'll give you a preview of what it's going to do to other parts of your body later. Much later. I have hours to explore, and I'm not going to rush. Just tasting your kiss is an experience that I want to make last a long, long time."

He saw her face beginning to flush, and he knew that his little prerecorded narrative was getting to her. The flight attendant walked past them again briskly, but this didn't stop him from putting more pressure with his hand on her thigh, and creeping his fingers just a little higher up. That's what the blanket was for, right? To keep them from prying eyes.

"I'm going to kiss you until you start making those little, frustrated sounds that tell me you need more of me. And maybe a little while after that, too. Because as much as you complain, I know that it makes you wild when I tease you. Can you feel it, baby? Can you feel my tongue against yours, and my arms around you? Can you feel my body up against yours? I'm already getting hard for you. That's no surprise. Kissing you drives me crazy—anybody would get hot touching you like this. But no one else ever will.

"Just like no one else is going to see your pretty body under your clothes, like I'm going to in a minute. Because after having my fill of your lips, I just get hungrier. You can tell, too, by how my hands pull up your shirt. They are a little rough, demanding to feel you. Do you think I don't know that sometimes, you like it a little rough? Don't think I don't see it. One of the only times you really comply with me is when I'm tugging your clothes off, fast and hard, rubbing you all over. You never complain then."

As if sensing where she was in her listening, she felt the very real, present hotness of his fingers under the blanket lifting her shirt a bit, running along the bare skin of her midriff and leaving a trail of fire wherever they went. God, she was horny. And she was a masochist for listening to this when she was already so worked up. But, she felt powerless to stop, entranced by the sound of his voice.

"And now you are pulling off your shirt with me, and you are pulling my head to you, wanting to feel my mouth everywhere on your body. Who am I to deny you? I kiss your throat and the part of your chest that is uncovered. I let my tongue come out and trail it downward, across your skin, and the taste of it is better than ice cream. I drop to my knees in front of you so I can kiss your belly, the sides of your body. But I have another motive for being down here, and it's to get rid of your pants as soon as possible. When I unbutton them and start to pull them off, seeing the curves of your hips makes my dick throb. You are so fuckin' sexy. I want to devour you.

In real time, he could hear her breath come a little faster. Her eyes were still closed, and he knew that with vivid imagination, she could easily see what was being described to her. He moved his fingers down over the waistband of her pants, and one of them found the seam that ran right between her legs. He heard her gasp softly when he pressed there, and her eyes opened for a second, looking around. Seeing there was nothing to fear, she relaxed again. To any onlooker they would have seemed an ordinary couple traveling, resting against each other during a long flight. The blanket disguised the intimate movements of his hand.

"This is the first time I've seen you in almost a week, though, and I want to touch you more before I eat you up. Ice cream or no." There was a throaty chuckle then that made her feel a little weak. "I'm still on my knees, but I'm rubbing my hands up and down your gorgeous body even as I kiss you all over your legs and around your panties. Can you feel me touching you, Temperance? When the tips of my fingers reach your bra, I know I have to get it off. That kind of sexy just should not be hidden. It takes me awhile, since my attention is on kissing you, but my hands unhook it and pull it off. Before I even see your breasts, I reach up and squeeze them and hear you moan, and you're thrusting your hips towards my face now. _You've _turned into the greedy one. You want me everywhere. But all in good time."

On the plane, she had indeed begun to move her hips in time with his strokes. He had found the hard button of her clit through her pants and was making small, concentrated movements there. The pressure felt phenomenal, and every so often he would change the sensation, drawing one fingernail up and down her sex, making her twitch. Would anybody really notice if she just yanked off her pants and sat in his lap? Probably…damn. She concentrated on his voice in the headphones and the delicious pressure between her legs.

"So how do you want it now, baby? Do you want me to rub you through your panties, tease you a little bit with one hand while I pull on your nipples with the other? Or do you want me to press my face there, so you can feel my breath, then pull your panties down with my teeth? I'll do whatever you want, as long as you don't make me go too fast. Even though I'm dying to take you, practically shaking with wanting you, it's been so long and I want to remember everything, enjoy every second. My goal is to make you scream. You _will _scream, Temperance. I won't stop until you do.

"However you want it, your panties come off. There's something incredibly sexy about me being fully dressed while you are naked in front of me. It's my own personal museum, with the best piece of art living and breathing right in front of me. Nobody's going to keep me from touching it.

"One more time, I touch you all over. Maybe I'll stand you against the wall so you have something to lean against while I fondle you. I'm going to stand up and kiss you on the mouth, down your throat. I'm going to flick your nipples with my tongue while stroking the undersides of your breasts with my fingers, loving the way that it makes you shiver and arch your back, pressing you into me. I'm going to cup your ass and squeeze it, then surprise you by flipping you around so that I can lick up and down your spine, kiss the backs of your knees where you like it so much. You'll be moaning by then…squirming while I feel up the back side of you while your breasts and stomach are pressed up against the cool wall. You'll wish I were naked, maybe even that I'd just pull down my pants and take you from behind while you lean on the wall. But not yet, baby."

Her breathing was uneven and she was struggling not to vocalize while he stimulated her. She buried her face and her mouth against his chest. When his fingers left the V of her legs, she couldn't help making an irritated whimper. He squeezed her shoulder and kissed her forehead soothingly before making his intentions known. Deftly, with his available hand, he unbuttoned and unzipped her pants. Gently, he lowered one hand down and into her panties. Although his movement was restricted as his hand was trapped between her flesh and her pants, she was well-lubricated and his thumb easily glided over her swollen clit, while his middle fingered busied itself sliding up and down her wet slit. She bit her lip as she tried to rock inconspicuously against him. If that flight attendant came back right now, it would be grounds for violence.

"When I flip you back around to face me, you're starting to beg a little bit. I don't think you even know what for…for my hands? My tongue? My cock? All you know is that you want to come so bad, by any means necessary. So do I, but this is about you right now. Once I slip into you, it might not last long that first time. I am so backed up for you, that just thinking about how tight you are makes me want to explode. That's why I'm going to make you scream before I'm inside you. That needs to come first."

She was gratified that, through the headphones, she could hear his voice becoming strained, and she could hear him breathing heavily. The scene he had created for her was arousing him even as he invented it. She wondered if he was touching himself as he recorded this, and the thought that she might very well be hearing his jerk-off fantasies made her even hotter. She let out a low, quiet moan. Hopefully, if anyone was in earshot, they would just think she was dreaming.

"I want to be able to reach every part of you, I don't want anything hidden from me. I'm going to lift one of your legs, kiss it, and put it over my shoulder as I kneel in front of you. And…there it is. You are opened up to me and magnificent, and I can practically feel the heat pouring off of you. You smell delicious, and I know you are going to taste the same way. You're already bracing yourself against the wall in anticipation. And before I touch you with my mouth…much like I'm doing now…I'm going to tell you what I am going to do to you. I'll describe how my mouth is going to make you feel, when it's rubbing and tickling and licking you, and after a minute you will be begging me to stop talking and do it already, make you come. You are getting so hot, and you are clawing at my shoulders in desperation. I just need to make sure that you really, _really _want it."

She wanted it, alright. Her hand clasped over the spot where his was rubbing her inside her panties. _'Harder,' _her hand said. He complied, massaging faster, curling his other fingers under so that he could dip them inside of her.

"I'm going to kiss you lightly, first…wet my lips against yours. When I kiss your clit, I can feel it pulsing against me. You're almost crying, loving the feeling of my mouth on you but wanting, needing so much more. And I'll kiss you again…gently at first, then getting harder little by little until I'm sucking a bit, putting my fingers at your opening and letting you rise and fall on them as you buck against me. Can you feel it? Can you feel my hand cupping your ass, and the other one pushing my fingers into you? Does your clit feel me pulling on it, sucking it into my mouth and starting to flick my tongue against it, making it shiver? It's pushing you higher and higher, and I know those sounds that you are making. You are going to come against my mouth. I _need _you to come against my mouth."

She could see it, the whole time, the scene laid out in front of her. But right then, she really _did _feel it. The finger that was twinging against her clit suddenly was his tongue. For a second, she was there: against the wall, her leg draped over his shoulder, hips thrusting, rising swiftly to the pinnacle of her pleasure. The plane with its uncomfortable seats was gone. The only universe that existed was the one between her legs, and the Big Bang was rapidly approaching.

"It's getting more and more intense, baby. I don't want you to hold back. Are you going to scream for me? Scream for me, baby."

In her mind, she screamed, desperately, loudly, one hand grabbing at his hair while the other scraped against the wall, looking for something to hold onto. On the plane, her hand clapped against her mouth and the sound that came out was more like a shuddering sigh. His fingers continued to dance over her and she strained against him, milking her orgasm for all it was worth, all those days of pent-up tension releasing wetly against his hand. The plane chose that moment to shake with turbulence. She whimpered as she throbbed, and he held her close, giving her the support that she didn't have in the fantasy that they created.

"I love making you come. Makes me feel like king of the world. Feeling you like this, around my fingers, against my mouth, naked and sexy as hell…it's the best homecoming anyone could hope for. And guess what, baby? It's just beginning. We're going to make love all night. And if the way you make me feel doesn't kill me, we'll do it again the next night. But at least if it does…I'll die happy."

She laughed, breathlessly, and he knew she had come to the end of her little airborne escape. After one last, loving stroke, he removed his fingers from her panties, and tugged the headphones from her ears. Her body lay limply against him, and he stroked her arms and whispered to her as her body came down. Eventually, there was another 'ding,' and they were given permission to again unbuckle their seatbelts.

After some time passed, the flight attendant came back through, and smiled brightly at them. Temperance looked at her with a dazed expression that was mistaken for sleepiness. "Can I get either of you anything?"

She and Booth looked at one another, and repressed a laugh. "No thanks," she said. "I'm pretty sure we have everything we need."

"Very well. The flight's half-over, by the way. Hopefully will be smooth sailing from here." The stewardess walked away.

Temperance smiled at her partner, and pressed a grateful kiss against his lips. She wrapped her arms around him.

"Maybe it will be smooth sailing, maybe it won't be. But either way, it should be a good flight, right?"

He grinned at her. "It already is."

In the darkness of the cabin, they relaxed against each other, enjoying the feeling of being so high.

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**A/N: This one might call for a little continuation…since poor Booth hasn't found any relief yet. Poor, poor Booth. I feel so bad for him:-) What do you think? More on the plane, or should we send them back to the hotel?**


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: How is **_**this **_**for a paradox: I had thought that the moving process would slow down my writing, but I am so avoidant that I write even **_**more. **_**And I feel physically incapable of holding onto this chapter until Monday, even though I despise posting on Sundays. Jeesh. There's a little too much crazy in the room right now.**

**The near-violent response to my question last chapter can be summed up by the following: "If that bee-yotch doesn't take care of poor Booth right this second, I'm going to **_**jump into the story and do it myself."**_** It's ok, folks! You know me by now…I couldn't keep you (or Booth) hanging for long. Or **_**could **_**I? (insert evil laugh here). Well, not this time, anyway:-). Hope you enjoy.**

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She knew she probably would look ridiculous to anyone happening to pass by; her head lolling back against the seat, her cheeks rosy, and a smile on her face that she couldn't seem to wipe off. Every now and again Booth would look over at her and grin broadly at her expression, and it wasn't hard to see that he was as satisfied with himself as her body had been with his attentions. Try as she might, she couldn't work up any irritation for his smugness. He _should _be proud of himself. He was amazing.

It struck her, as she sat on this airplane with her body still humming from her recent climax, how supremely lucky she was right now, at this point in her life. She was accomplished and successful. She had friends who cared about her, people in whom she could trust. And this man. This man who planned for and orchestrated her happiness, who gave so willingly of himself to her, who with infinite patience and care navigated through her fears so that in the end, the only possible conclusion she could draw was that he _must _love her. And that word—the "L" word, which had rung so hollow to her for most of her life—suddenly seemed as if it might just have meaning after all, when it came from his lips. As she gazed at him in the seat next to her, she was suddenly overcome with a gratitude that was almost torrential in its force. Her chest felt thick with it, and if she had tried to talk right then, she wasn't sure she'd be able. All the struggles that she had experienced…the abandonment by her parents and brother, her nightmare trip through the foster care system, the sometimes unfathomable atrocities that she witnessed through her work…they seemed somehow balanced out in her life. There were awful things in the world, for sure, she had seen maybe more of this than others. But there were wonderful things, too. And now she had witnessed this as well, at its most shining and true. This wasn't about airplane sex, or waterfall trips, or any of their recent explorations: as pleasurable as these were, they were just the icing on the cake. This was about connecting on a level that surpassed anything she had ever known, and truly, _really _believing that maybe…just maybe…there might be a person in this world who it wouldn't hurt so much to depend on.

He caught her looking at him, and must have been disturbed by her newly serious expression. "What's wrong, babe?"

"Nothing at all," she said softly, a little wonderingly. She put her hand on his leg and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

He seemed to wince a bit. "You might not want to do that. I'm working on calming myself down a little bit here, and your touching me has the opposite effect."

It took his words a second to register before she mentally smacked herself in the forehead. Of course. It had been a week for him, too. She was slowly breaking out of her independent, slightly self-absorbed world, but it was slow going.

"Aww, Booth…"

"Hey, don't worry about it. We'll touch down in about two hours…then we'll have the whole hotel room all night. It'll be great." At the thought of it another rush of heat went through his body. Hopefully, his words were more convincing than they sounded to him.

Her fingers tiptoed up his thigh under the blanket, and came to rest on his erection, and his entire reproductive system twitched almost painfully. "It doesn't _feel_ like you can wait two hours."

"Baby, baby, baby," he groaned quietly. He found it almost frightening what this woman could do to him. When he had made that recording, his initial intention hadn't been to necessarily let her hear it. His thoughts had been filled with her, every part of her, and he had felt as if his head might burst if he didn't release them in some way, get them out. The most peculiar thing was it wasn't just the thought of her body that tormented him, although he longed for that with a fierceness he had never felt for any other woman. It was the millions of tiny subtleties that made up the wholeness of Temperance Brennan. He thought of that barely-there smile and the flash of her eyes when the pieces of their cases fell together for her. He thought of the way she spoke about her mother and father, with a tenderness that was more than ordinary. He thought about the masterful way she kept him on the edge between infuriation and passion. And every time he thought about these things, he felt, quite literally, a tug at his heart that made him desperately want to reach her. Physically, of course, emotionally, but also that one, last little piece of her that she was still protecting and keeping from him. No matter where she was, how far apart they were, he just _had _to keep trying to show her what she was to him. Even if it meant bursting into flames as he waited two hours to have his tension relieved. "I have to wait, sweetheart. If you do to me what I did to you, it's going to be a little more…obvious. And like we talked about before, it would be good for us to avoid getting arrested."

She frowned, but didn't stop the slow, excruciating constriction of her hand around the bulge in the front of his pants. She looked around. Indeed, there were more passengers wandering about, stretching their legs as the flight began to enter its fourth hour. The flight attendants sporadically went from row to row, checking on the travelers. Privacy _was _a bit hard to come by. Where would they be sure to be hidden from sight?

"Hey," she whispered to him. His head rolled in her direction, a combination of rapture and agony in his eyes. She nodded her head in the direction of the plane's restrooms. He picked up on her intent immediately.

"Oh, Bones. No, no, no. I'm not going to be able to take care of you properly in there. You're better than that." His words dissolved into a strangled sound as she caressed him again. "You really don't make this easy on a guy."

She rested her chin on his shoulder and whispered in his ear. "You already took care of me properly. And I adore you for that. But right now I want to feel you filling me up, and I'm pretty sure you want the same thing." His cock pulsed its assent, right before she lifted her hand from it. Rising from her seat and turning, she looked back over her shoulder coyly. "It would be great to have some company."

He swiveled his head and watched her sashay down the aisle. Did she actually expect him to do this? Since when was he such a sexual daredevil? Back several rows, he saw a couple male passengers stare appreciatively along with him at her retreating figure. If he had any doubts about following her, the sight of other men eyeballing her effectively stomped them into the ground. He adjusted himself before he stood, trying to make his erection less obvious. On his way back to the restrooms, he tried not to scowl at the people who were looking at _his _Bones. Combined with his jealousy was a surge of pride. _'She wants _me,_' _he shot telepathically to his would-be competition. _'I'm the one who she asked to come fill her up. And I'm the one who she said she adores.' _He knew how childish this imaginary banter was, even if it never left his lips. He didn't care. A deep, primal instinct drove his urge to claim her, and by God he was going to do it, whether or not it would be in a space the size of a closet.

When he got to the row of restrooms, he looked at them quizzically. Which one? A quick check showed him only one was occupied. Was he supposed to knock? The decision was made for him when the door opened and her arm shot out, grabbing him by his jacket and pulling him inside.

The room, of course, was miniscule. It was made that way for a reason: so people wouldn't do what they were about to do. They could hardly even change positions while standing there. His heart was beating frantically at the anxiety of committing a felony. It was also because he was almost insanely turned on.

Her arms were immediately around him, and she was kissing him like her life depended on it. He groaned softly as their hips fit together. She was soft all over and she smelled delectable, like flowers and candy and liquid sex. It had been ludicrous to think that he could have waited two hours for her. Sorry, officer. It was a medical emergency. If I didn't get my shot of Temperance Brennan before I got off that plane, I would have died. Look at her…you've got to understand that.

When they pulled apart, she laughed breathlessly. "I've never done this before. How do we…you know?" she asked, as if he had done it a thousand times.

At her smile, his heart constricted almost painfully with joy. She was having a good time, having fun. Letting go. And _that_…that was worth any risk.

He drew her back to him, both to kiss her and to create enough room so that they could rotate, with him towards the back and her near the door. She could feel his hot breath against her ear when the kiss ended. "I want you," he whispered. "So bad. But this has to be fast. And _quiet_."

She nodded excitedly, and if he wasn't so close to exploding he would have been amused by her enthusiasm. Looking around frenetically, he tried to figure out how this would work. Standing? Maybe…he could bend her over the sink or the toilet seat and pound into her from behind. The thought made him dizzy with desire, but logistically, he could see that every thrust in that position was likely going to cause his hips to slam into the wall. That would incite attention. No good. How about sitting, with her facing him? Oh, he _loved _that…watching her creamy breasts bob up and down while he cupped her ass and pulled her hard against him with every pump of his hips. But…there wasn't enough room on either side of the toilet for her knees. No good. Creativity time. Ahh…sitting, with her facing _away_. Now _there_ was one they hadn't tried yet. And they had plenty of room for vertical movement, which was all they'd need. Seeing his predatory smile, she knew that he had figured it out.

"How do you want it?" she whispered. He answered her by grabbing her hips and roughly spinning her around so that she was facing the door. She gasped as quietly as she could as he reached around her with both hands and began fumbling with the button and zipper on her pants, for the second time in the past half-hour, while he kissed the back of neck. He had been right in his sexy little narrative…there _were _times, and plenty of them, when she liked to be handled just a little roughly, forcefully. This was new to her. In her past experiences, she had largely preferred to be dominant during sex, sometimes to the point of only being able to orgasm when she was running the show. But, ever since their exercise in trust where he had tied her up and blindfolded her before subjecting her to an exquisite pleasure that she hadn't known existed…well, now it sometimes felt thrilling to have him tell her, with his hands and words, how to move, where to go, and what to do while they were making love. It freed her up from thinking and allowed her to concentrate only on what was feeling good.

Once her pants and panties were down (this restricted her movement even more, but no matter; it wasn't as if there were anywhere to go, anyway), she immediately pushed back against him, feeling his hardness grinding against her ass. He hissed in a breath. "Easy, babe. It's gotta be fast…but not _that _fast." He worked on his own pants with one hand while slipping the other one up her shirt to feel her there. God, he wished they could get completely naked…he missed watching her rosy nipples harden and become pebbly under his fingers, and the flush that crept down her body as she became more and more excited. But that would have to wait.

His pants dropped, and he sat on the closed toilet seat, now having a perfect view of her ass in front of him. His cock stood straight up, and was beginning to drip with need for her. He thrust a hand between her legs to assess her readiness. She was hot, and moist; still wet from their previous activities back in their seats, and also from excitement about their current illicit goings-on. She looked backwards at him, flirtatiously. "Let's do it." Her eyes were shining.

He didn't need to be told twice. He pulled her back into his lap, holding her up to position her wet heaven over his swollen member. Trying to remember not to scream as she grazed his most sensitive area with hers for the first time in a week, he lowered her with one arm around her waist, while he covered her mouth with his other hand to muffle the moan that inevitably came out of her whenever their bodies first came together. Despite his insistence that this go fast, he paused for a second when he was finally buried to the hilt inside of her, wrapping his arms around her waist and panting in her ear as his body reeled from the always-perfect fit.

For a few seconds, the only sound was their heavy breathing. Then…she laughed. Softly, but she _laughed_.

"Please tell me you aren't laughing at me," he whispered with effort.

She leaned back against him, wriggling her hips to perfect the positioning. "No. I'm laughing because this is so much _fun._"

Fun? He would give her fun. He began to pull her back and forth against him, rocking his cock gently to different positions inside of her. Her laughter turned to sharp exhalations of pleasure, and she squirmed. Putting one hand over his, she guided it up under her shirt again so that he could play with her breasts while they moved together. She tried to help their motions by pushing her feet against the floor, adding some up and down to their back and forth.

He buried his face against the back of her shoulder and tried to both appreciate but not be overcome by the feelings she stimulated in him after being apart for so long. She seemed so especially tight, and warm, and every part of him that was against her (which was basically his entire front side) felt like it was giving off sparks. She also seemed especially sweet, and he felt dazzled by everything she was in that moment. He wondered if it counted as making love when they were in a place as decidedly unromantic as this. The same moment he thought it, he answered himself. It didn't matter where they were. He no longer either recognized or cared about that. Their bodies were the room. The plane. The world.

Reality intruded for a moment when the disgustingly cheerful voice on the intercom asked them (and the rest of the passengers) to please return to their seats and buckle their seatbelts once more, as they were about to hit another patch of turbulence.

"You are kidding me," he whispered.

She looked over her shoulder at him one more time. Her hands braced on either side of the stall. "Hold on," she warned.

Neither of them would ever think of turbulence the same way again. He tightened his arms around her waist just in time to keep her from flying completely off of him at the first bump. The following jolts had the effect of bouncing her up and down almost violently against his already over-excited penis, shooting starbursts of sensation up through his groin into his entire body. Thump. He gasped. Thump. Her body strained. Thump. They shook with all the force it took to power the plane through the restless sky.

He clapped one hand over the spot where they were joined, pressing down as much to hold her in place on top of him as to stimulate her. He didn't have to move his hand. Hell, he no longer had to move his hips. The plane was moving their bodies for them, dominating them. All they could do was enjoy the ride.

As the plane went through one last series of shudders, it sent vibrations through both of them that topped off the friction of their deep, turbulence-induced thrusts. The control he had been holding onto broke. With a mighty throb, his longing for her released into her body. She heard that growl that signaled his climax, and concentrated on that sound, and the feeling of him pulsing inside of her. When she felt the hot, wet essence of him bathing her insides, she found her release, as well. She wanted to howl with the joy of it; luckily, she had had practice keeping her mouth shut while what felt like dynamite exploded throughout her being. They sat together like this, clinging for dear life until they realized that the only shuddering now was coming from inside of them, and not from the plane.

Her head fell back against his shoulder, and he smoothed her hair back from her damp brow. They both began laughing now, and he realized what she had meant earlier. It wasn't funny; but it _was _incredibly, almost preposterously fun.

Her soft laughter faded to a smile. She turned her face into him the best she could. "What _is _this?" she asked wonderingly. "I've never…felt this before. I've never…" she trailed off, not entirely certain what she was about to say.

He answered her with mock indignation. "If you don't know…then I'm certainly _not _going to tell you."

They laughed once more, then rested a second.

He kissed her shoulder. "We better get back out there. I don't know how well the airline folks are keeping track, but I don't want them to send a search party after us."

"Mmm-hmm." She tried to stand up, but he kept her locked in place with his arms. "Um…Booth? Airplane? Search party?"

"I know." He tilted her head around and kissed her warmly once more before relenting to the ordeal of adjusting their clothes, cleaning up, and moving inconspicuously out of the restroom. In all, this process probably took longer than their actual sexual encounter.

Once back in their seats and getting comfortable once more, he took her hand and squeezed it. Looking at her, he was astonished, again, by her brilliance, her beauty. There was no place he would have rather been than 30,000 feet in the air with her, and he suddenly had a crazy wish that the plane would never land, so they would never have to go back to reality. But then again, that hotel room was waiting for them…

He felt the need to at least _try _to verbalize what he was feeling. "Thank you, Temperance. For pushing me out of my comfort zone. For making me take leaps of faith."

"Hey." She poked at him. "That's my line."

They smiled meaningfully at one another. Two hours seemed a little more manageable right now, their bodies sated and their hearts warm. But not by much.

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**A/N: I wrote another humorous (I hope) little story called **_**The Art of Embarrassment. **_**As awilystar pointed out, it is "a pleasant break from all the smut and angst." Don't we all need that from time to time? Maybe not:-) Nonetheless, I'd love for y'all to check it out if you get a sec.**

**Don't forget the 4 R's! (read, review, & rock 'n roll).**


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: Um…did anyone miss me? **_**Anyone?**_** (-pouts as people remind me that I've only really been gone a week, even though it feels like eternity-). Humph. Fine then. Well, I missed **_**you**_**:-)**

**Thanks for those who wished me well with my move. Everything went smoothly, and I'm now 800 miles away from where I was, surrounded by boxes, but still itching to write…so, I did, so I wouldn't be distracted later from the real work. On the bright side, unpacking is a little more fun than packing, so I don't have as much to hide from when I'm done.**

**Much love to my reviewers. You keep me going throughout the miles. Don't think I don't appreciate all of you.**

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He had collapsed in the bed with his arm over his eyes. It had been all business from early morning to evening…checking out the crime scene and interviewing potential suspects and witnesses, while Bones examined the remains that had been found and took care of shipping the pertinent evidence back to the lab. She would be going back to D.C. the next day in the early afternoon, while Booth would remain to try to get more leads on the case. He envied her…going back to her normal life tomorrow. Never one to complain about traveling, he had as of late become somewhat irritated every time his work took him away from home. There was just too much he was leaving behind, even for just a few days.

She had stowed her equipment in the room adjacent to the one in which they were sleeping. It seemed a little wasteful at this point, but the bureau of course still supplied them with two hotel rooms—why wouldn't they?—and Booth was not about to make the mistake of telling his superiors that he and his partner would only require one from now on. No, no, no. He was not _that _much of a glutton for punishment.

She emerged from the other room. "As soon as the remains get to the lab in the morning, I'm going to have Hodgins do analyses on the particulates on what's left of the victim's clothing…I think we're going to find that he was killed in a location separate from where we found him."

"Please, no more shop talk," he pleaded from his spot on the bed. "It's bad enough we had to talk about dead bodies over lunch _and _dinner. Can't we just have a few hours off?"

She raised her eyebrow. "It _is _what we're here for, you know. Remember? Investigating murders? Solving crimes? It's what we do."

"I haven't forgotten that. But I also haven't forgotten what it's like to sleep. And what it's like to eat _without _talking about human decomposition."

"Ah. You need to learn the science of selective amnesia. It can be very helpful in cases like this." She smiled lightly before heading into the bathroom to rinse the day off her body.

Sighing, he sat up, kicked off his shoes, and loosened his tie before turning on the television. As much as he fussed, there was something soothing about falling back into the rhythm of the business end of their partnership, the familiar flow of science blending with intuition reminding him of how they fit together even when not acting out their role as lovers. This was what had drawn them together in the first place, and he was gratified that it remained a part of their relationship. Still, at the end of the day, he wanted nothing more than to see her softer side, contrasting with the cool, hard logic that she had exhibited during this investigation. The _scientist _in her…well, she was brilliant, amazing, awe-inspiring. But the _woman _in her…he would never, ever tire of coaxing her out, and enjoying the fruits of his efforts.

His eyes closed once more, and he didn't recognize that he had been dozing off until his partner emerged from the shower seemingly seconds after first going in. She was wrapped in one of the hotel's small white towels, and her hair hung in damp waves around her face. Rummaging through her bag, she found her hairbrush and began stroking it through her curls in front of the mirror, smoothing and straightening them until they fell slickly down her bare back.

In the mirror, she saw his eyes had opened. She had thought he was watching TV, but she noticed that his unwavering gaze was firmly centered on her. "What?" she asked a little self-consciously. "Is there something wrong with me?" She examined her reflection in the mirror.

He laughed lightly, still not used to seeing her insecure. "No. I just like looking at you." It was true. He could spend hours just watching her, observing how her body moved.

She smiled back unsurely, then went back to brushing her hair, keeping her eye on him in the mirror. "You're just hoping my towel will fall off."

"Well…that wouldn't hurt. But it's not necessary." He extended a hand to her. "Come here."

Her nose wrinkled. "You want me touch your dirty body with my clean self? Forget it."

Chuckling, he replied, "You've touched a lot dirtier things. Come here." He reached up and tugged on her hand."

Relenting, she joined him on the bed, snuggling beside him while he wrapped his arms around her. "Mmm. Feels good." Her right hand found his left, and she extended her fingers against his palm, measuring its size against her own. With interest, she stroked his fingertips with hers, trying to feel the tiny ridges there, then traced his whole hand with two fingers. It was warm, and her damp skin soaked up the heat. He watched her delicate exploration, trying to guess what she was thinking. He was getting better at reading her, but there were still times when getting inside her head felt like looking at a two-way mirror with the lights on. You knew that there was something going on right behind the glass, and if you found the power switch it would be as plain as day. But try as he might, he could only see his own reflection. "I can see your wheels turning."

She glanced up at him, frowning. "I don't know what that means."

"You're thinking about something."

She shrugged, and her hand dropped to his chest. "I'm always thinking about something. It's a curse."

Her voice sounded a little sad at this, and he held her a little closer. "As much as I love that active brain of yours, sometimes I wish I could just hit the 'off' switch and give you a little break from it."

Considering this, she fell silent for a minute while he stroked her hair. In his arms, she felt she could deal with anything life threw her way. Experience had told her not to trust that feeling. Right when you felt invincible, when it seemed everything was going smoothly—that was when it seemed you were most likely to be hit with the greatest misfortunes. It seemed a superstitious coincidence, but it was deeply ingrained in her, and she was loathe to tempt fate by being too happy.

She traced patterns on his chest thoughtfully. "How do you know?"

Momentarily confused, he tried to remember what was the last thing he had said to her. "How do I know what, baby?"

"That you love me."

His mouth opened, then closed again. He hadn't been expecting _this _particular question.

Oblivious to his struggle, she went on. "We make a good team…we always have. We look out for each other. Care about each other. We have great sex. But I'm sure you've had that before, with other people. So how can you be sure that it's love? How do you know it's not friendship, plus infatuation?"

He had to choose his next words carefully. "Are you wanting some kind of logical explanation? Or something more subjective than that?"

She wasn't sure _what _she wanted. "Don't know. Maybe…both, if you have them."

"Okay." He paused thoughtfully. "Have you ever heard of the triangular theory of love?"

She looked at him blankly. "No. It sounds made-up."

"I swear. A very important scientist came up with it after years of research."

"When you say scientist…do you mean psychologist?"

He chose not to confirm or deny this. "This scientist studied the components of the emotions that people most frequently described as love. When patterns started emerging, he found that there were three basic factors associated with the feeling. Those were intimacy, passion, and commitment. Any one of those could be, technically, a type of love. Different combinations produce different outcomes."

"So what happens when you have all three?"

"Then that's the best it gets. Then you have consummate love. That's what most everybody wants."

"Then that's it? If you have intimacy, plus, passion, plus commitment, it equals love. Like a formula."

"So the theory goes."

She looked doubtful. "Is that what you think?"

There was a pause that was long enough for her to glance up at him curiously. Slowly, he replied, "I think that all those things are good to have."

"But?" she asked expectantly.

"But…if the question is how do I know I love you…" he took a deep breath… "then my answer is, I just know."

"You just know," she repeated slowly.

"I just know."

"Hmm." Neither of them said anything for a few long moments. She turned this around in her mind a few times, examining it from every angle. He wanted desperately to check in with her, but gave her time to process. When she finally looked ready to speak, he was frightened that the next words out of her mouth would be denouncing the ultimate of his 'trust my gut' statements.

"You know…believe it or not…" a slow smile spread across her face… "I like your explanation better."

He squeezed her in relief, then rolled over on his side so he could look at her more fully. "You're not doubting me, are you?"

"I don't doubt you," she said softly. "I'm just…trying to understand it better."

He smiled, then leaned down to kiss her. She smelled fresh and clean, and he reveled in being close to her. "Well, if you have any more questions, you know where to go." He pressed a kiss on her forehead. "You tired?"

"Yes," she admitted. The day had been a long one by anyone's standards.

"That's ok. I'm going to go take a shower, so that I won't defile you anymore." She grinned. "If you are asleep when I come back…then we'll meet again in the morning."

"Alright," she agreed. As he slid off the bed and went into the other room, she wriggled out of her towel and allowed it to drop to the floor beside the bed. Usually she didn't like to be so disorderly…actually, she typically didn't like to sleep in the nude, either…but her sleepy state was making her less punctilious about tidiness than was usual. Thoughts ran viscously through her mind. Intimacy…passion…commitment. A triangle of love. How ridiculous was that? It explained nothing of the biological and chemical processes that underlay such an emotion. But, he was right…they were good things to have. Passion she had no problems with. Commitment, she wasn't terribly worried about. As long as she was relatively free in other areas of her life, she could easily devote herself to one relationship. Intimacy…_there _was the rub. Being trusting, open, vulnerable. It required one to lay down her armor, break down her walls. Sharing without fear that what she shared would be used against her.

She looked at herself one more time in the mirror that hung over the desk, near the foot of the bed, right before she crawled under the sheets. She remembered him making love to her and describing what he saw when he looked at her. He had seemed so openly admiring, in awe of a beauty that he saw both in her body and her spirit. Her eyes closed. Temperance Brennan seemed to be a woman of few fears; she was very much capable of taking care of herself. But deep within her, she had to acknowledge a terror that, if Booth were to see her…_really _see her and the pain and turmoil that existed inside of her alongside her tender feelings for him…that he would finally recognize that she wasn't as beautiful as he had imagined. Inside of her, pain and love were entwined, conjoined twins that had brought her both despair and joy in her life. It seemed that one could not be expressed without the other, so to keep the undesirable hidden she had to conceal the desirable as well. It was a sad irony that for her, hurt was love's concave reflection. Upside down, but the same.

Later, she couldn't pinpoint when her ruminations turned to dreams; it seemed that both were a phantasmagoria of surreal thoughts and images that haunted her awake and asleep. When her eyes opened again, the very beginnings of sunlight were beginning to permeate the darkness of the room through the blinds, and her lover was beside her once more. She touched her hair; it was dry. Several hours must have passed since she crawled under the covers. She felt faintly disappointed that she had not awoken to kiss Booth goodnight.

Her eyes closed again, and she pressed up against him, absorbing his warmth. He had undressed before coming to bed, as well, and she touched him lightly, his smooth skin contrasting with the hardness of his muscle still one of her favorite feelings. He sighed softly in his sleep, and his muscles twitched under her touch. She delighted in his unconscious response; even in slumber, he felt so vital, so _alive_, and she greedily wanted to soak up that energy. Her touch was light as it trailed across his chest and shoulders. The relaxing feel of it might have soothed her back to sleep if it had not roused him.

With her eyes closed, she didn't know that he had woken up until she felt his mouth graze her throat and work its way up to her lips. Mmm. She had been planning on drifting off again, but this might be alright as well. She rolled over on her side to face him and returned his kiss, sleepily and languidly caressing his mouth with hers. A familiar heat welled up slowly in her as he pulled her up tight against him. His naked body complemented hers perfectly, and it seemed only natural that, wordlessly and sightlessly, they begin to make love. He shifted lower on the bed so that his head was at her breast, and his fingers gently tugged at her erect nipples at a leisurely pace while his mouth spread kisses across the span of her chest. He didn't open his eyes, right now content to rely on his well-developed cognitive map of her body. Determined to both keep the lethargic tempo and while at the same time increasing their excitement, he was in no hurry to complete his journey across her body, stroking her with his hands inch by inch. Her soft gasps let him know when he hit a hotspot, and he carefully rubbed these areas, increasing the pressure just a little at a time.

She wasn't sure that this wasn't just a dream, and she didn't really care one way or the other. The stimulation, which while fully awake would have felt teasing, now felt like exactly the right pace. Her fingers grasped at his head and flexed against him in time with the pulses of pleasure he was creating with his mouth on her. She swung one leg around him and contented herself with slowly rocking herself against his hip, rubbing her sex against his skin there. He encouraged these motions with one hand on her ass, moaning a bit at the impossible heat of her against him and increasing the suction on her nipple, which he was currently laving inside his mouth. He slipped his hand lower and slid a finger between his leg and her entrance, and she greedily tilted her pelvis so that he could access her more readily. Her inner muscles twitched as he slipped his finger inside of her, and she rode his hand as she rubbed her clit against his hip.

She was ready to have him inside of her. More than ready. However, she hadn't the energy at the moment to roll over and take him; her pillow and the bed still felt so, invitingly good, the perfect accompaniment to their languorous lovemaking. She wanted him to feel just as relaxed. In response to her desires, she flipped around so that he could spoon her while both of them rested. It didn't take him long to figure out what she wanted, and he eagerly complied by pulling her close and rubbing the length of himself up and down her wetness. She reached back and positioned him at her desired target, then used her fingers to spread apart her own folds, giving him easy access to her excited opening. As soon as he began to slide inside of her, she reached back and grabbed his ass, pushing him forward so that he would fill her completely. Aroused by his soft grunts in her ear, she braced herself with her hand on the bed so she could feel the impact of his thrusts and push herself back against him.

She felt full. Intimacy. Passion. Commitment. She had them right now, more than she ever had in her life, but she had no concept of whether or not it was enough to sustain them through the storm that was their lives. How could she know whether or not it was enough? How could she know if it was _too much_, and she was leaving herself too vulnerable, too open to the pain that flowed so copiously whenever someone left her? Her mind reeled from the magnitude of the questions, and she knew she was thinking too much again. His pumping against her was coming a little faster, more forceful, and the erratic sound of his breathing told her he was close. No…she had distracted herself, and wasn't ready yet. Her body was warm and tingling, but she needed just a little longer… Almost instinctively, she reached behind her and felt him there, sliding against her slickly. She ran her thumb across the base of the underside of his cock, then even lower, and he made a strangled noise at her touch. She found the spot that she was feeling for, and waited until she heard the growl that always preceded his climax. When she heard it, she pressed down firmly, and didn't let go, even as he spasmed and thrust against her frantically. A small smile appeared on her lips, and she wished for a moment that she would be facing him with her eyes open. Usually when he came, she was having her own orgasm or working on it, so she couldn't fully appreciate him at the moment of his peak. She would have to do this again sometime, under different circumstances.

When he was done shuddering and clasping at her hips spasmodically, she took her hand away and gave him a second to recover. He knew something was different, but he couldn't figure it out, and he was now wide-awake and curious. "What the hell did you do?" he rasped hoarsely. The first words spoken since they woke up.

"I wanted more," she whispered back, "so I prevented you from ejaculating."

If she could have seen his face, she would have been amused by his dumbfounded expression. "But…but…I…"

"Orgasm and ejaculation and two separate physiological functions for men. You had an orgasm, but you didn't come."

Not quite believing what she was telling him, he moved experimentally inside of her of her once, twice again. Damned if she wasn't right. He wasn't getting soft. His disappointment in not lasting as long as he would have liked rapidly switched to a feeling of invincibility. She felt him grin against the back of his neck.

"I see you liked that. Are you ready to reward me?" she asked breathily.

With a moan, he tossed the covers off of their overheated bodies and began to move against her, more slowly this time, with smoother, controlled thrusts. Her moans of appreciation reverberated through both of their bodies, and he kept his hands busy playing with all the sensitive areas he could find on the front side of her. He worked his way down with his hand. When he reached her clit and gave it a gentle pinch, her eyes flew open and she gasped. Now _there_ was the response he was looking for.

With her eyes open, a motion caught her interest. When she gave it her attention, she suddenly stopped moving, in awe. He noticed the change in her. "What is it, sweetheart?" he whispered, his voice trembling both from his recent climax and his progression toward his next.

"Look at that." He followed her gaze to see what had so intrigued her. For a second he was confused, then it dawned on him what she was looking at.

He had to admit that the scene reflected in the mirror _was _a beautiful one. Their naked bodies glistened in the early morning light that was streaming through the blinds. Their faces were portraits of pleasure and contentment. The fit that they always felt to be perfect was now displayed for their hungry eyes; the sight of their joined bodies was almost too erotic to bear. The physicality of what they were was attractive, for sure. Their two healthy, young, and fit bodies looked perfect together. But that alone couldn't have caused the almost overwhelming emotions that poured over her at their reflection.

He smiled down at her, and now she could see it. "You see something you like?" he asked. Without waiting for an answer, he repositioned their bodies so they could have a more direct, head-on view. Now both watching in wonder, he began to move inside of her again, lifting her leg so that they could watch him disappear and reappear inside and out of her body. His smile faded at the intense pleasure of it. Each watched their lover's muscles strain, the passion and lust in their faces, and the emotion in their eyes. He touched her breasts, and the view of it from this angle was a study in sensuality. His fingertips grazed her stomach and her hips, and she could view the gentleness that she had perceived but never seen. When his hand found her sex, opened her up, and began to massage her clit, she nearly fainted. Reflected in the mirror, in that moment, was her and him together as _he _had seen and told her about. She was beautiful. _They _were beautiful. Everything about them went together perfectly. Tears sprang to her eyes even as his amazing body and fingers urged her to the height of her pleasure, and her cries of climax and joy were one in the same. The visual stimulation of the scene, as well as the contractions of her around him, pulled him along for the ride. This time she allowed him to finish for real, and the force of it drained him. They watched each other come, and both would have counted the moment as one of the top ten things they had ever witnessed.

They clung to each other for awhile, catching their breaths until then began shivering from the cool air on their wet bodies. Even then, they couldn't take their eyes off of the reflection in the mirror. The sight of them together like this seemed so…right. Nobody else could take either's place. This was the way it was supposed to be.

She sighed. "That was…really good."

He laughed. "And _that _was the understatement of the year." He kissed her behind her ear. "You made me explode twice in about ten minutes. I don't think that's…natural." Reluctantly, he pulled away from her so they could again be covered with the blanket. He felt slightly disappointed that they were hidden once more, and wondered when he became such an auto-voyeur.

"Maybe we should add it to the list."

"The list?"

"Remember? The Reasons Why Seeley Booth and Temperance Brennan Must Be Together. You invented it."

"Ah, yes. It's all coming back to me now. So what are we adding?"

"That we teach each other exciting new things. I teach you about male multiple orgasms. And you teach me about triangles."

This struck him as funny. He tickled her. "I'm going to triangle _you_." She laughed. "As soon as we wake up again." Settling back into the pillows, he looked at her both tenderly and sleepily.

Grinning, she settled in as well. "Then I won't even mention right now what I'm going to do to _you."_

"Promises, promises."

Her smile faded, and she regarded him seriously. "It's going to keep getting better. _I'm _going to keep getting better. I promise."

He brushed her hair from her face. "You think?" She nodded. "How do you know?"

She thought for a moment. Finally, she replied. "I just know."

"You just know?" He hid his delight.

"I just know."

They both laid quietly before falling back to sleep, each thinking of what it might be like when things were better. And thinking that if tonight was a reflection of things to come, then better might even be too good to handle.

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**A/N: Well, **_**I'm **_**still loving the smut…heehee. Let me know if it starts to become repetitive for you…that's when I'll know to wrap up the story and move onto something else. As always, I love all reflections (no pun intended) and ideas about what will keep it interesting for you.**


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: Feelin' a little angsty today, which is prob. just as well, since ForRomance and I decided that it was time for a touch of turmoil again. The bad times make you really appreciate the good times, right? This chapter is a climax of sorts (but don't worry—not the end), and my hope is that it makes you feel something. Because it makes me feel something. In any case, let me know. I'm just sorta going by instinct at this point.**

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He whistled the whole way to the Jeffersonian, and didn't stop as he walked through the lab. He typically hated people who were as cheerful as he was right now, but he wasn't going to let that little fact ruin his good mood. He was back home, and the case was solved, a murderer set to go behind bars. The satisfaction that he got from being a part of this process was the reason he got into law enforcement; although short-lived, the head-rush that came from cracking a case was powerful enough to keep him going even when his work seemed almost intolerable. To top of _that _particular high, he was about to be reunited with his partner and was very much looking forward to kissing her senseless in celebration of a job well done.

"My squints!"

"G-man." Hodgins looked up from whatever disgusting thing he was examining and grinned at his friend.

"I would just like to say that you, and you, and you, and you-" he pointed to Jack, Angela, Cam, and Zack in turn- "are awesome. Great work on this case. We couldn't have solved it without you."

'His squints' gave him slightly amused looks. "Since when do you _like _us?" Zack questioned.

Booth raised his eyebrows. "Is that a problem?"

"No. It just…throws me off a little."

Cam patted Zack on the shoulder. "Don't confuse Booth's being in a good mood with him liking you."

"Hey," Booth retorted indignantly. "I like you guys. Just because I don't always understand you and think you are socially awkward and most likely from another planet doesn't mean I don't like you. No offense."

Zack looked at him impassively. "None taken."

"Speak for yourself," Angela snapped, arms crossed.

Suddenly finding it desirable to climb out of the rapidly growing hole that he was digging himself, Booth pointed a thumb back to Brennan's office. "I think I'm going to go see what Bones is up to now." He turned to make a quick exit.

"Wait," Angela called after him. When he turned around he found her looking more pensive than annoyed. "It…might not be a good time. She got a phone call awhile ago. That's why she's not out here with us.

He noticed her change in tone. "Is it a _bad _phone call?"

"No," Angela said quickly. "Just…a phone call. Why don't you stay out here and chat with us for awhile until she's finished?"

He shook his head at his friend's oddness. "She'll get off the phone for me," he said while walking away. "I'm just _that _important." He flashed a smile over his shoulder as he approached her office. He thought he heard Angela calling out to him behind him, but he ignored it. What did she expect? He hadn't seen his partner in two days.

The office door was ajar, and he could hear her voice filtering out. Poking his head through, he saw her with the phone cradled at her ear, a small smile on her face. She was leaning back in her chair and angled away from him, so she didn't notice his entry.

"Yes…I've heard the Hebrides coastlines are incredible. You'll have to listen to Mendelssohn when you crisscross through the archipelago…that's on my list of things to do in my lifetime." She laughed a little. "I know. But things are pretty exciting right here in D.C, too. There's a pro-choice march going on downtown right now. You are missing _that._"

Booth snuck up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, kissing the back of her neck. She jumped a little and made a small sound of surprise at the touch, before she recognized the offending arms around her. When she saw him, she flushed a little.

"No, I'm okay," she told the person on the phone. "Booth just came in and startled me…no, we just completed one. Oh, he's fine…yes, you know how that goes."

He spun her chair around so that she was facing him, competing for her attention. She was doing a pretty good job of ignoring him.

"Yeah, I should go too. My team needs me." There was a pause. "You too…it was great hearing from you. Take care of yourself, okay?"

Booth gave her his best puppy look as he moved her chair from side to side. She shot him an exasperated look as she finished up her phone conversation. When she finally hung up, he grinned triumphantly.

"They told me not to come bother you. Yeah, right, huh?"

Her sigh conveyed something approaching annoyance, but it didn't quite make it there. "No…that would require patience."

His hands on the armrests of the chair, he leaned in to kiss her briefly. "Sorry. It's good to see you."

"You too," she relented. "It's been a pretty crazy past few days. For you, too, I know."

"Well, now maybe we can have a few days of normalcy. Maybe even a weekend's worth." He kissed her cheek before uprighting himself. "Who was on the phone that was so important? Didn't sound like business."

The hesitation was brief, but he picked up on it nonetheless. "It was Sully."

He stiffened. Of course. His fellow agent, and his friend. And his partner's former lover. Who else would be sailing around the coastal Hebrides right now?

"Oh." There was an awkward moment in which neither of them knew what to say. "How is he?"

"Good. He's weathered a few storms. But he's onto his third continent now. Seeing amazing places and things."

Right now, there was only one amazing thing that Sully had seen that concerned Booth. He wanted badly to ask, but knew it would proudly display his insecurities for her to see. But he didn't know what other direction the conversation could go…

"Um. Did you…"

"Did I what?" Her eyes were everywhere but on him. She could be oblivious sometimes, but this wasn't one of those moments, and he knew it.

"Did you tell him…"

She breathed out loudly. "About us?"

"Yeah. That."

Looking towards the floor, she replied, "No. No, I didn't."

It didn't mean anything, he knew. It didn't matter what Sully knew or didn't know. But that didn't keep him from feeling like he had been punched in the gut. A small spark of anger ignited inside of him, and he worked desperately to cover it. "Why?"

She stood and walked away from him, arms crossed tightly over her chest. "I don't know. It just felt…strange. It was just a friendly conversation, anyway. He didn't ask about my relationships. I didn't ask about his."

Booth's jaw clenched. "Funny. Usually friends talk about their relationships. Especially when something big happens."

Defensiveness was beginning to creep into her posture and tone. "Why is this so important to you, Booth? Is it so necessary that you stake your claim?" She turned to face him. "Don't you trust me?"

He disregarded her last question. "Why _isn't _it so important to you? It's one thing to keep our relationship low-key at work. It's another thing to purposely hide it from your old boyfriend."

Her eyes flashed. "I didn't _purposely _hide anything." She sighed, and began to pace around the room. "Look. It was nice to hear from him. It was a nice, normal, lighthearted conversation. We ended things on good terms, and I really just wanted to catch up without having to…get into anything too deep."

There was nothing she could say right now that wouldn't stoke the fire of his jealousy. He had almost managed to forget about Sully…the tortuous process of watching his partner touch him, spend time with him, get close to him. And, eventually, look at him with the caring and adoration that had until then been reserved for _their _tender moments. At the time, Booth had been entrenched enough in denial to deal with it. But now, remembering this caused an ache inside him that he felt both physically and emotionally. He replayed the scene when he first walked in her office today; saw her smiling, heard her laughing with the person on the phone. Sully was uncomplicated. He didn't have any children or family obligations. He didn't have a million and one emotional scars from work as a sniper. He had been good for Bones, and that's what pissed him off right now more than anything.

"That's the way it's always going to be with you, isn't it, Bones? Don't get into anything too deep." He was on a roll now, and couldn't stop; he stepped closer to her and lowered his voice. "What are you thinking right now Bones? Are you thinking it would have been easier just to sail off with him? Then, you wouldn't have had to face what we are to each other."

If he wouldn't have been so angry/jealous, he would have immediately apologized for the hurt he saw in her eyes. "You aren't being fair. I _didn't _go, that was the whole point. I didn't go, even though you _told _me to."

It was all coming back to him now. The desperate sadness and caring that had overcome him at the possibility of his partner leaving him to be with this man, this other man who he had wanted to hate, although he couldn't figure out why. He rubbed his eyes. "I just wanted to do what was best for you." Trying to explain to himself as much as he was to her.

She had swallowed her hurt and was now looking at him with that impassive gaze that he found so infuriating. "Then maybe you should go right now, before either of us say more things that we regret," she said softly.

He wanted to argue with her. Scream at her. But he knew she was right. Right now, he couldn't even tell if he was angry with her, or with himself. Not trusting himself to say anything else, he took a deep breath and walked out the door. He could feel her eyes burning holes in him as he stalked away.

This was not exactly how he planned on this visit going.

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When he got back to his own apartment, he sat brooding, a beer in his hand and the television off in front of him. This was one of the worst possible positions in a relationship: knowing he was wrong, but still being angry anyway. Of course, she had a right to talk to Sully. It was admirable that they ended their relationship still caring about each other and respecting each other. And she hadn't given any indication that she wished she were rather with him than with Booth. So why the hell did he feel like he was losing something?

A few hours had gone by unnoticed while he was contemplating this question. His phone rang a few times, but he didn't bother to pick it up or even check who the calls were coming from. Neither did he answer the first time he heard a soft knock at his door. He couldn't talk to Bones now. He was too embarrassed. But when the knocking became more persistent and demanding, he figured he better get it before the neighbors got suspicious.

"Can I come in?" She had come straight from work; she looked professional, put-together. Too good for him right now. He nodded, and ushered her inside. He took his position that he had been in for hours. She sat next to him. He had thought she would initiate the conversation, since she had been the one to come here, but she did not.

Finally, he said a little morosely, "I'm sorry I acted like such an idiot. You can talk to whomever you want. And you are under no obligation to tell anyone about our relationship." His words rang hollow, even to him.

"It's okay." Her expression gave nothing away. "I know that's not what you were angry about."

"Really?" He looked at her with a new interest. "Do you know what I _was _angry about?"

"No."

Damn. He had been hoping she could enlighten him.

"Booth. I'm with you. I don't want to be anywhere else. I thought you knew that."

He met her eyes. "I know that."

"Then what are you thinking about?" she pleaded. "Because if I'm supposed to figure that out, it's going to take a really, really long time. I'm no good at the reading people thing. I need help," she finished plaintively. She sighed. "I can't believe I'm the one pestering _you _to be more open with your feelings."

He studied her. "You really cared about him, didn't you?"

"Yes," she replied honestly. "He's a good person. And he was good for me at time in my life when I really needed something good."

Silence fell over the room for a few moments. "Was that the wrong answer?" she finally inquired.

"No. Honesty is never wrong." He was quiet again for awhile, staring down at his hands in his lap. When he looked up again, it was with something that looked like resignation. "It should have been me," he said softly.

She wasn't entirely sure she heard him. "What?"

"We've been acting like you are the hard one in this relationship. Like I'm the one helping you face your fears and confront your trust and relationship issues. But the truth is, that in a lot of ways, I've been just as avoidant as you have been. You went to Sully because I wasn't there for you in the way I should have been. I accused you of not wanting to face what we were to each other, but I was resisting just as much. Truth be told, Bones, I'm a pretty messed-up guy, in my own way." He laughed sadly. "Truth be told, I'm not angry with you, or with Sully. I'm angry with myself for holding you at arm's length when you needed somebody right next to you. It should have been me there, but it wasn't. As committed as I've always been to you, I've also pushed you away, convincing myself it was what was best for both of us. And now, as much as I want to blame you for still being afraid to get in too deep with me, I know that really, I'm part of the reason why you have that fear. I'm so sorry, Temperance."

She stared at him disbelievingly in the wake of his monologue, absorbing his words. Her eyes welled up. The next words out of her mouth were not what he expected. "Stop it," she whispered.

His eyes widened, a little surprised.

"You really want to start doing what's best for me, Booth? What's best for both of us?" He nodded. "Then stop pretending that we are these…_damaged _people. Stop pretending like the things that we struggle with aren't the same things that millions of other people in relationships struggle with." Her lower lip was trembling, but she held tight and went on. "I hate it that you suddenly feel like you did something wrong. Because honestly, Booth, I don't regret one stop along the path that led us to each other. I regret no step or misstep. Because however difficult it was, it brought us to exactly where we were supposed to be.

He was dumbfounded by her. Her words were so…un-Boneslike. He realized that she was talking in _his _language. Her frustrated tears spilled over now, silently falling down her cheeks leaving wet trails in their wake, and he was reminded of just how far they had come in the past few months.

"Baby," he whispered, and made a move to pull her into his arms. She resisted just a bit, embarrassed of her tears and still a little indignant about the issues that her conversation with Sully had brought up. When her eyes met his, though, she found she was unable to feel anything but relief that he wanted her back in his arms again. She melted into him, laying her head against his chest and being soothed by the strong, steady pumping of his heart.

"I want to be with you, Seeley," she said softly. "We weren't ready for it back then; we needed time. And I needed…practice. But I'm ready now."

He held her tightly, breathing in the scent of her hair, and leaning down to kiss the tears from her cheeks. "I'm so glad we found our way here."

She nodded, sniffling a bit. "Booth?" He nodded. "Please don't walk out on me again. And never, ever tell me to leave, if that's not what you mean." In response he squeezed her closer, assuring her with his actions that his nearness could be guaranteed.

Every day, she felt she was closer to understanding. Hadn't he told her, weeks ago, how important it was to him that she not show shame at their relationship? He needed, not just to feel like a man, but to feel like _her _man. He was right; she had been holding out a little bit on him with this.

They sat this way for what felt like a long while, luxuriating in the closeness. When she looked up at him again, wide-eyed and sweet, even in her strength, there was nothing else to do other than kiss her. The air they were breathing mingled and became warmed by heat of their kisses.

She slid off the couch to the floor between his legs. Concentrating intently as she did on every task, she began to slowly undo the buttons down the front of his shirt.

His hands fell on hers and stilled them. "Temperance. You don't have to do that."

She looked back at him, her face all seriousness. "Please? I want to…everything feels so right when we are together like this. I want to feel that way again…"

Studying her, he tried to ascertain whether or not she was using sex as a substitute for real intimacy. "There's time for that, baby. Right now…can we just hold each other for awhile?"

He worried that she would feel rejected at this, but after a second's consideration she nodded. She crawled back up towards him and he pulled her into his lap, her curves fitting perfectly against the hardness of his muscular body. He concentrated on breathing in time with her, their chests rising and falling in tandem.

"I meant it when I said I've never felt this before," she whispered after some time had passed. "With anybody." Her words, not in any way sexual, still stimulated something deep within him in a way he didn't entirely understand. His heart throbbed painfully.

"Can you tell me about it, Temperance?"

She was silent for a second, and he wondered if he was asking her for something she wasn't able to give right now. But she started speaking, slowly and softly first, and then with greater confidence.

"It feels like…there is a part of me that draws energy from you. When I'm feeling lost, or confused…thinking of you centers me. It helps me find my place again. Sometimes, that place is with you, sometimes it's not…but no matter where it is, I feel comforted knowing that you are there for me. If I need you."

He nodded, encouraging her with gentle strokes of his fingertips up and down her arms.

"I feel like, even if it were inconvenient, I'd still want to make room for you in my life. Even if it meant reconsidering some things that I had previously thought I didn't want, or didn't need. If I close down, it's never because of you. You make me want to open up." She let out a sighing breath. "And it feels like, when you touch me, it's more than skin-deep. I know that doesn't make much sense. But your touch makes me feel more than pleasure, or excitement, or even happiness. It makes me feel…real. And…if you ever tell this to anyone, I'll deny it…it makes me feel like there is more in the world than just science and facts. Like the world is bigger and more brilliant than I ever imagined."

In that moment, he was glad he had postponed their lovemaking. He needed to hear this. Needed it more than he had acknowledged even to himself. "Thank you, Temperance." He kissed the top of her head. "You have no idea how happy you just made me." She beamed up at him, and he knew he did the right thing by rewarding her emotional honesty. "And…anytime you want to tell me what makes me different and better than anyone else you have ever been with…I'm all ears.

She laughed with him for the first time that night. Her voice took on a coy tone. "If I tell you now—are you going to stop me again?"

"Not a chance," he replied earnestly.

"Okay, then." She squirmed from her current position to one in which she was straddling his lap while they sat on the couch. She leaned in so that her mouth was by his ear, and she spoke into it huskily. "Then I should probably tell you…no one else has ever turned me on as much as you do. I still can't believe how much I want you. When I think of kissing you, I feel dizzy. Every time I look at you, I think that you are the sexiest man I ever laid eyes on. Don't let that go to your head."

"Wouldn't dream of it," he promised, fibbing.

Her fingers reinitiated the job they had previously begun, unbuttoning his shirt. "I've never had this reaction before, so often. Feel." She took his hand and laid it across her heart; he felt it fluttering hard and fast, a physical manifestation of her desire.

"I've never felt so sexy before, like I do when I'm with you." She finished with his shirt and pushed it off, then pulled his undershirt up over his head. She began to kiss the parts of him that she exposed, starting with his hard stomach, up his chest, and across his shoulders. "And not just like I want to have sex," she breathed against his skin. "But like I'm this sensual person, worthy of being kissed and loved and adored."

"You are _so _sexy, baby," he confirmed with a groan, touching her shoulders lightly while she worked her way up his body. He marveled at her ability to melt him like this, and was rapidly forgetting his jealousy as she assured him with her body and her words.

"It's because you bring that out in me," she whispered. She pulled off her own shirt, and rubbed her naked skin up and down his, making him push his hips up against her anxiously. "You are the most beautiful man that I have ever been with." Her hands ran up his arms and down the back of his neck, pulling his head between her breasts. She wasn't a woman to typically dole out compliments like she was doing right now…but she _was _one to always tell the truth, and it was obviously having a tremendous effect on him. He was kissing her more hotly than ever, feverishly trying to live up this perception of himself that she was detailing for him. Those kisses were making it difficult for her to carry on with her little seduction, but she felt compelled to give him this; make him realize that the insecurities he had about their relationship were unjustified.

She lifted up a bit so that she could work on their pants, while he was still lost in a world of her breasts and skin and hair and lips, unable to tear himself away to help her divest them of their clothes. It took her awhile to accomplish this task, but found it well worth it once their bare skin was pressed together.

She moaned loudly at the feeling of being so close. It would be so easy at this point just to concentrate on the sexual sensations, to let his fingers and his mouth help her to forget about all the emotions that were flowing through her at a frightening pace. For a moment, she gave into the urge. Sliding off of him onto the couch, she leaned over the armrest while poised on her knees. Over her shoulder, she told him, "And no one has ever made my body feel so amazing. Like you do every time. Like you're going to do right now, while you fill me up."

A groan emanated from deep in his throat at the prospect of taking her this way, her allowing—no, _asking for_—his dominance, being turned on by it. He rose to his knees behind her, touching her ass, her back, underneath to her breasts, any part of her that he could reach. Leaning over her shoulder, he rasped into her ear. "I know I'm asking for a lot, baby. But tell me again how much you want this."

Through her excitement, her heart gave a pang at his request, reminding her of how desperately he needed her assurance that she was as invested in this as he was. "Seeley. I want every part of you. Whatever you'll give me. So much."

She meant it. He could hear that she meant it. Kissing her back, he worked himself inside of her little by little, quivering with barely contained self-control. She tossed her hair back and moaned. "Oh God, Temperance. You feel so amazing." He moved inside her deeply, reaching down to cup her sex so that she could rub against him while she was being penetrated. "Is this good for you, baby?" He knew it was. He just wanted to hear it.

"You're the best I've ever had," she gasped. It was true. And suddenly she could hardly bear to not be looking into his eyes as she told him these things. It felt so good, they were so physically in tune with one another. But she wanted more. She gathered up all her willpower. "Seeley." His movements slowed. "I want to be facing you."

For some reason, this excited him more than all the dirty talk he had ever heard. With one last kiss to the back of her neck, he withdrew from her. "Come on."

Her legs a little weak, she dismounted the couch and took his hand, allowing him to lead her to the bedroom. Once there, he fell on top of her almost immediately, but graced her with a deep, passionate kiss before entering her once more. She was very nearly frightened at the intensity in his eyes, but she found it impossible to look away. This is what she wanted. His thrusts felt doubly powerful with the force behind his eyes, and she felt herself almost instantly on the edge of a cataclysmic explosion driven by the emotions between them. He saw the difference in her, felt the connection she was making with him, and trembled at the strength of it. He couldn't help the litany of endearments that fell from his lips. "Temperance Brennan," he gasped. "I can't believe how much I love you."

She rocked with him, her fingers clasping at his back. She whimpered, and all that she felt threatened to detonate through her every pore. Her eyes locked with his.

"I love you too."

For a split second he stopped moving. The world stopped turning, and time ceased to exist. An eternity came and went in that second. And then, their bodies were pounding together like they were trying to power the universe with the energy behind it.

"Say it again," he moaned.

"I love you."

He sped up, the pounding in his heart almost intolerable.

"Again."

"I love you."

"Again."

She was crying. "I love you Seeley Booth. I never loved anyone like I love you."

And with that, they tumbled over the edge together, as one, rocked by a force so powerful that it was thrilling, terrifying. Nothing else mattered. They crashed into each other, almost drowning in the love and pleasure they were feeling. Neither were sure when it ended because they couldn't stop kissing on another and holding each other tighter, and all of it felt like one, giant, full-body climax that went on forever.

Minutes or hours later, they still hadn't moved from this spot; they laid silently, because no other words needed to be said on this night. What was past was past. Now, all that was important was what came to pass after the moment when they both healed each other.

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**A/N: Smangstmance, Juniper375? That'd be smut, angst, and romance. These made-up words are getting out of control.**

**Give me a shout-out, guys. I have about a bazillion people on my alert list that I haven't heard from yet, or haven't heard from in a long time. I need to know if the story is still doin' it for you. Yes, I need a lot of validation. I admit it. But I'm also open to suggestions.**

**Sweet dreams, all.**


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: I'm a little reluctant to post right now, because the site is being so wacky—stories disappearing and reappearing, review pages telling me that my story doesn't exist, story alerts on the fritz. Craziness! But it felt like time again for a little fluff, so…fluff it is! **

**If you haven't seen (or **_**couldn't **_**see, because it was disappeared), I posted a few little ficlets in the past week to expunge some of the angst from my system. Love for you to check them out. Suppose I'm trying to feel out what I'm good at…angst or fluff, one character's POV or another's, etc. Love all the feedback you can give me!**

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"Did they buy it?" she asked.

"Um…I don't think there is any chance that they did." He looked embarrassed, but Brennan couldn't help laughing a little bit. He was so often cocky, a little arrogant even, so it always amused her when he showed his discomfort at things like this. Nonetheless, she was happy that he pushed through it and accomplished his task, so that they could have this time together.

They were far apart. Seven hundred sixty-seven miles apart, to be exact. Occasionally, her work called for her not to solve crimes, but to do the much more mundane work of identifying and cataloguing historical remains found at archeological sites and other, more accidental spots of excavation across the country. That's what she had been doing all day—actually, for the past several days—and now she back in her hotel room anxious to relax a bit.

The task she had assigned to Booth was to access one of the Medico-Legal lab's laptops, which had wireless access to a satellite linkup that allowed real-time images to be transmitted across the miles. The Jeffersonian always did have the best toys, he had to admit. After a few nights of late-night phone conversations, wishing that they could see one another again, Brennan had hinted (_strongly_, he remembered) that it was a waste for all that impressive technology to be sitting overnight in the lab, when it _could _be facilitating their communication. He had agreed.

Of course, her colleagues weren't about to give him any of their equipment for a night without giving him a hard time first. When he showed up at the lab to make his request, insisting that there was some…ah…evidence that he needed to transmit to Bones from a new crime scene, his hopes of getting off easy fell at the mischievous looks that immediately appeared in the squints' eyes. They questioned him endlessly about where he was going to take the computer, what kind of crime scene he was investigating, and the particulars of the evidence he wanted to transmit. Finally, unable to keep torturing him subtly, Angela had finally broke down and asked, "Are you sure the evidence isn't in your _pants?_" before doubling over in laughter and taking everybody else with her. God. The things he would do for Temperance Brennan.

As annoying as this experience had been, he had admit that it was all made worth it when the link connected and he saw his partner, lying on her belly on the hotel bed with her legs crossed behind her and a pleased smile on her face. He drank her in with his eyes, finding this experience much more fulfilling than simply talking on the phone. It wasn't, of course, as good as actually being able to touch her, but he would take what he could get. "You look great, baby."

She laughed. "Yeah, right. I've been stuck in this dusty nightmare of 109 degree heat for three days. This is _not _me at my best. You should just be glad that I'm all showered off."

"I don't know. It might be fun if you were a little dirty." He wiggled his eyebrows. "Seriously. You are a sight for sore eyes."

"Your eyes are sore?" She sounded concerned. "Have you been taking your allergy medication?"

He groaned inwardly and prepared to explain the expression to her, before he saw a slow smile spread across her face. She was just teasing him. She had been joking around much more often lately, and it pleased him to no end.

"Very funny," he said, sticking his tongue out at her. "I try to pay you a compliment, and you just make fun of me."

"I thought it would make it harder to miss me."

"Not possible," he declared. "Have I mentioned how much I'm looking forward to this weekend?"

"You know what? I am too," she replied, almost thoughtfully, pulling a smile from him.

They had made plans to take Parker to the Jeffersonian's Natural History Museum to see the paleontology exhibit. When his little boy found out that they were going to see a _whole T. Rex skeleton _up close, he had started talking so fast that Booth only caught a few, excited words between that moment and the end of the conversation. There was absolutely no possible way that it wouldn't be an entertaining day, and as uncertain as Bones was about being able to bond with a five-year-old, Booth had no concerns. She was going to be in her element at that museum. And so would Parker.

They chatted a bit about their weekend plans, Brennan's discoveries of the day, and about Booth's interactions with her co-workers (Brennan, who by now was mostly immune to her friends' good-natured teasing, shrugged off the whole incident; "That's Angela," she offered as an excuse, this apparently supposed to make up for his humiliation). When it got late, both knew it made the most sense to end the conversation, but neither wanted to do it.

"I should go get rested up for tomorrow. But I don't want to stop talking to you. Or looking at you," she admitted, resting her head on her arms. She then laughed and buried her face in them. "I still feel so pathetic when I say things like that." Her voice was muffled, but he still made out the words.

"Aw, don't stop. Please be pathetic. It makes me feel wanted."

She sighed. "You are very much wanted, Seeley Booth. I hope you realize that by now."

"I do." He did. Maybe he always did, but somehow when she was able to tell him she loved him, it finally became clear to him that this was the moment they had waited their whole lives for. Their pasts only mattered as much as they made them strong enough to reach this point. The uncertainty he had, the doubts—they had vanished. They loved each other. Everything else could be negotiated, worked out. They would be alright.

Since that night, those words were said again only rarely. They didn't typically end phone conversations with them, or say them every time they met or parted. This was absolutely fine with him. Temperance Brennan did not verbally express her love often…but when she did, it really, _really _meant something. He was pretty sure he would never get used to the elation it produced, bubbling through his whole being.

"So," he said, carrying his computer to his own bed and laying down beside it, "Do you think of me once you get off the phone with me? Or is this the only half-hour of brain space I get a day when you're gone?"

Her eyes were amused. "You're fishing, Booth."

"Yes," he replied honestly.

Sighing with exaggerated exasperation, she told him "You know I think about you often. Probably too much. I was thinking of you before you called. And I'll probably think about you again when we are done talking. Which makes it even _harder _to get to sleep."

"Oh yeah?" he replied interestedly. "If I were there, I'd make sure that you slept well."

"What would you do?" she laughed. "Try to bore me to sleep or something?"

He was insulted. "_No." _He sniffed. "You would most certainly _not _be bored."

"I see. You'd make me come," she said matter-of-factly.

"You make it seem so romantic," he grumbled.

"It's okay, Booth. You're right, it's not that romantic here. But don't worry, I'll come. I'll probably get to that right after we are done."

The blood flow in his body rapidly changed its direction. How the hell could she just say things like that, like she was talking about the weather? "You will?" he choked out.

"Sure. Here, look what I brought." She disappeared from view for a second and he could hear her rummaging through something. When she reappeared, she displayed her vibrator to him.

She laughed at his expression. "Don't act so surprised. You're the one that got it for me, remember? And, if my memory serves me correctly, you wielded it quite effectively. It would be foolish of me not to take it with me when I travel. You wouldn't want me to be uptight like I was after my last trip, would you?"

Oh, he remembered. "You are _such _a tease," he accused.

"What?" she asked innocently.

"Don't play with me. You know how hot you just got me. And now, I'm jealous of a damn…appliance."

She smiled. Maybe she was a _little _bit of a tease…because that was exactly the reaction she was looking for. "You shouldn't be jealous. I pretend it's you." Her hand caressed the artificial phallus, almost lovingly, and she watched him groan in reaction.

His gaze was hungry as he observed her from across the miles. "Is it as good? As what we do, I mean."

"Hmm." She turned it on, slightly, and traced her fingers with the lowly buzzing tip. "The orgasms it creates are pretty powerful, I suppose. But of course…it can't talk to me, and touch me, and look at me like you do. And that's most of the fun, right there."

The last time he had heard that humming noise, his fingers had been thrusting inside of her as he aroused her to a screaming climax with that vibrator on her clit. "God, I wish I were there with you right now, Temperance. I want you so badly." His voice felt as tight as his crotch did.

"Well…" she said slowly, as if drawing some long sought-out conclusion. "You _are _here right now. In a manner of speaking."

It took her insinuation awhile to make it through his lust-hazed brain, but once it did it was definitely a 'duh' moment. "Do it," he commanded in a gravelly tone.

"Do what?" Still with the naïve act.

"You know. Get yourself off. Play with yourself. While I watch." He felt a little dirty, saying these things to her. But she had asked for it…literally, he was pretty sure…and he was beyond caring.

"You want to watch me masturbate?"

Was she going to make him beg? He would, if he had to. "You know what I want."

"Well…maybe." The corners of her mouth turned up ever so slightly. "Are you going to do it for me, too?"

He laughed a strangled laugh. "It's not as pretty when I do it, baby."

She shrugged. "Well…we'll see. How about…I start things off. And who knows, maybe in a little while you'll feel like reciprocating."

He nodded enthusiastically. Anything to get this particular little show on the road.

She sat up , laid the vibrator aside for the moment, and slid back away from the computer, so that he could watch her whole body. She felt so sexy right now, and pleased with her brilliant idea of using this technology to make the distance a little easier. Maybe if they would have done this the last time, they wouldn't have been so tense upon their return.

"First…I usually dim the lights. I don't like it too bright, but I like to be able to see what's going on. I like to watch my body react to what I'm doing to it.

Couldn't blame her for that, he thought. That was one of his favorite things to do, as well.

"I undress, but I leave my underwear on. Mostly so I can tease myself a little, but for another reason, as well. You'll see why later." She slipped her tank top over her head, and was rewarded with a low moan of desire from him. She was wearing a lacy white bra, which did little to disguise the darkening pinkness of her areolas or her nipples that were beginning to harden and protrude against the fabric. He licked his lips. Desperately, he wanted to reach through that screen and pull her breasts to his face, so that he could trace his tongue around those enticing circles.

"Do you touch them yet?" He barely recognized his own voice.

"Not quite yet. Patience," she chided gently. Her hands ran down the side of her body and her thumbs caught in her stretchy pants. She lifted off the bed and eased them down her hips, caressing her bottom along the way, then kicked them the rest of the way off with her toe. Her panties matched her bra, and he was again pulled in by most ridiculously small details, focusing now on the crease where her panties pulled tightly against her body, mocking him with a veiled suggestion of the sweet, wet folds beneath them.

She laid back and stretched out now, propping her head up on the pillows so she could watch him while he watched her. "Usually, now I'll think about how you look at me when you undress me. Almost like you are doing now." His eyes burned through her. "Because when you are looking at me so intensely, I can feel my body start to tingle. I like to start with that feeling, because it gets me so excited to feel my hands on me." The fingertips of her one hand started at her throat, and caressed their way down her chest. When they reached the tops of her breasts, they hesitated, then reluctantly bypassed them. Now, she used both hands to trace the sides of her body and her hips. Her eyelids fluttered shut for just a moment. "That light touch feels so good, Seeley. I know what's coming, so that makes it hotter. My hands are smaller than yours, softer. I prefer your stronger hands. But right now, I try not to make a value judgment…I just want to be touched."

His fingers ached to mimic her motions. "Go ahead, baby. Touch yourself like you would want me to touch you, if I were there."

Her eyes opened again, and she watched his reactions as she stroked her skin, starting with an almost tickling motion and then increasing the pressure a bit. "Mmm…feels good."

He had been unsure that he would be able to touch himself in front of her. His new worry was that he would be unable to stop from doing it. He wanted to be touched as badly as she did right now, and she hadn't even fully undressed and got to work yet. "What does your body feel like right now?"

"Hmm…sensitive. It feels all warm and full in through here." She laid one hand over her lower belly and pelvis. "I can tell my clit is starting to swell a little, too. Every time I shift my panties rub over it, and it twinges."

A sympathetic throb emanated from his own groin.

Working her hands upward, she cupped the fullness of her breasts through her bra. "The feelings get more intense when I start to touch my breasts. They ache a little bit. They want attention."

"Give them attention," he begged. She caught the movement he started to make with his hand towards the bulge in his pants, then he turned away at the last second. She smiled; it would be interesting to see how long he could hold out.

"Yes. I think they need it." She rubbed her fingers lightly over her nipples with a barely-there pressure, just enough to make them strain against the lace in an effort to get more stimulation. Then, she pinched delicately, and he could see her chest rise with a sharp intake of breath, and a flush began to spread across her skin. "Actually…I think they need more…more than what my own fingers can give right now." With a trembling hand, she reached for her vibrator, and turned it on low.

Oh, God, was she really going to use that vibrator on her breasts? His head might explode if she did. And of course she did. Running the tip around her nipples, she finally made contact with them and gasped. His head didn't explode, but his cock did almost burst out of his pants. As discreetly as possible, he made a move to unzip his pants, to give himself some relief. "When do you take off your bra…so you can feel how soft your skin is?"

He was gratified that now, her voice was a little shaky as well. "Right about now." She reached back with her free hand and unhooked it, freeing herself. Once the offending garment was dropped aside, she caressed one bare breast with her hand, and the other with the vibrator. "They feel so full," she moaned. She squeezed her nipple. "It feels so good...but nothing like your mouth. I'm going to think about your mouth right now…"

The bulge in his pants had reached ridiculous proportions now, and the restriction was starting to almost hurt. Okay, he would give in…the pants would have to go, while she was…busy.

She watched with interest, the knowledge that she was turning him on increasing her own arousal. Her eyes fell back on his face, to his lips. The memories of what those lips had done to her, again and again, rose immediately. Oh, my. If _that _wasn't enough to get a girl excited, nothing was. Her hips began a subtle rocking movement, seeming to demand that she pick up the pace of her exploration. She resisted a bit, but was beginning to have the same struggle that Booth was. She wanted it. Bad. Luckily, he gave her an excuse.

"Go lower," he rasped. The sight of her spread out before him, _right there _but still untouchable, was a kind of sweet agony that he could hardly bear anymore. Her body, as always, looked ripe for touching and stroking. He wanted to lay on top of her. He wanted to whisper all his dirty thoughts and his overwhelming emotions for her into her ear, all at once. He wanted to plunge into her and pound her so hard it would put that vibrator to shame. The thought destroyed his resolve; his hand cupped his hardness through his underwear and squeezed.

Well, now she was in no position to deny him. With one hand still at her breast, she trailed the vibrator down her stomach and circled her sex with it, running it across her pubic mound and down the creases of her thighs and sighing at the pulsations that rolled through her center. She moved the tip—just the tip—from the bottom to the top, lingering for a second against her entrance and allowing the briefest of contact against the underside of her clit. Her eyes rolled back at the sensation. "Booth."

"Yeah, babe." His breathing was audible through the speakers.

"I would really, really like to see you now."

She had perfect timing. His incipient lack of shame had just fully taken hold of him, and without hesitation, he shed his underwear.

He was beautiful to her. His erection, strong and proud, stood away from his body, an instrument of pleasure that took her breath away. Her hand instinctively wrapped around the girth of her vibrator, making her wish that it was his throbbing hotness that she was holding. He mimicked her motion with his own hand. "You do the most incredible things to my body, Temperance. You wouldn't believe how hard I am for you right now."

She could believe it. By this point, she had felt it, again and again, most every day they were together. But that didn't decrease her fascination with it. She would never take his desire for her for granted, because it matched her own perfectly. She slid her panties aside, making the first contact against her bare skin. Although hungry for more intense vibrations, she kept the device on low; she certainly did not want to numb herself from what was going to happen next. Wetting it, she dipped the vibrator between her inner lips. "Yes," she groaned, her hips rising. It wasn't him, but it was going to have to suffice. When she watched him stroke himself, she could almost imagine the phallus in her hands being his own. Slippery now, the vibrator glided easily across her slit. Her voice was ragged. "By now…it's really hard to decide…whether I want to be filled up…or have all that feeling…right on my clit."

His own strokes were coming faster now, pulling sparks of sensation from base to tip of his cock. Every time he thought that the sight of her arousing herself couldn't get more erotic, she topped herself. "Fill yourself up…while you finger yourself." Even his own words were searing him. Dear Lord, he wasn't going to last much longer.

"You read my mind," she sighed. With a groan of relief coming from her lips, the vibrator disappeared inside of her. She played with the angle a bit until she got it where she wanted. Her body jumped as it hit just the right spot. Now, she turned the speed up, feeling the vibrations from the inside out. Warmth radiated through her body. Her inner muscles clasped, having the effect of squeezing the vibrator from her body. Anticipating this, she pulled her panties over the exposed end, which held it firmly in place. Now, she had one hand free to caress her clit, while the other returned to her breast. Everything in her was humming.

"That is _so _sexy. You're driving me crazy." His fist pumped desperately.

The tension in her body was coiling like a snake ready to strike. "I'm gonna rub myself faster now baby," she whispered. "You squeeze harder…I want you to think about being inside me…because that's what I'm thinking about."

It felt like too much at once—her damp body writhing with pleasure, her hands touching the places that were reserved for him, the feeling of her eyes on him while he performed this intensely private act, knowing that it was pushing her to the edge as well. It was his own personal peep-show—made a thousand times more provocative by the fact that he loved this woman so much that it practically broke his heart. "I'm gonna come soon, baby. Just for you."

"Do it with me." The fingers of one hand grasped the sheets while the other hand rubbed herself frantically, her toes curled, and she struggled to keep her eyes open. The tension inside was becoming unbearable.

He hoped she was right on the edge, because there was no way he was going to be able to wait to come on command. As if an answer from heaven, she let out a keening cry, followed by refrain of words that seemed to be a mixture of his name and curses. The buzzing of the vibrator was unrelenting; her hips moved frenetically, pushing to meet her absent lover. "Thank God," he gasped. He might feel guilty later about the blasphemy, because it was unlikely that God cared about his imminent explosion. But right now, there seemed to be little in life more important than relieving his hotly boiling balls. Watching his lover come, he let go himself, his pent-up tension propelling from his body with a force that probably should have been physically impossible.

She decided that, definitely, one of her favorite things to see was her lover's face when he came. The sight extended her own orgasm, the hot throbbing sensation causing tremors to flow through her whole body. By the time she was finished, gasping for breath, her body felt almost overstimulated. She pulled her panties aside one more and removed the humming object from her body. It was just too much.

Even after his body felt empty, his cock still pulsed. He was panting. "Look at the mess you made," he teased, falling back on the bed.

She laughed breathlessly. "Sorry. I'd tell you not to blame it on me, but that's one thing that I _want _to take credit for." She struggled to sit up, pulling her bedsheet up to cover herself.

"Nooo, don't do that. Looking at you is what's going to get me through the night."

"You can look at me all you want when I get home." She collapsed by the computer again, her body still a little weak.

He admired her sated expression for awhile, and he reached out with his one clean hand, tracing the shape of her body on the computer screen. "Let's live together," he said softly.

Her eyes widened incredulously, but she didn't seem too disturbed, which he took as a good sign. "I give you one free show, and you think I'm ready to shack up?" Her voice was mostly light.

"I want to see you everyday. You can have your own office if you want. I'll never step inside, it can be all yours if you need your space. But every night that we are both at home, I want you sleeping beside me."

She was silent for awhile. He couldn't tell if she was ignoring him, or considering. "Tell you what," she finally said. "Let me drive at least half the time. And I'll _think _about it."

"Good enough." He grinned. "You think about it." Their relationship and lives were changing. But she would always be Bones. No doubt about it.

After they signed off for the night, they lay in their separate beds, hundreds of miles apart, but thinking the same thoughts. They had both been doing so good at living in the moment. Would it be too much of a disruption to bring the future into play?

It was a decision for another day. It was late, and they were exhausted. But they were both comforted by one piece of knowledge: whether or not they anticipated or planned it, the future was sure to be full of excitement and surprises. And, of course, love.

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**A/N: Can't say it enough…thank you to everyone who takes the time to keep up with this story. It's getting so long! Special love to my reviewers and the hot 101 on the alert list. Just a reminder, I'm always happy to hear your ideas, so keep 'em coming.**


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N: Ooohh. I have the whole day to myself, which means no one is trying to guilt me into coming out of "my hole" (my fiance's term for my office). This means I shall write all day! And maybe do some laundry. Then write again!**

**Chapter dedications: FBI office action for Sarali (although I just couldn't let them go all the way there…too hypocritical after the fit Brennan threw about Booth's coworkers knowing about them—sorry!). Parker interaction for Kari43. And the chapter in general for my fellow grad students, who I believe often feel the investing-in-self versus investing-in-others dilemma. Are there any other grad students in the house? Give me a shout-out if you're there. Everybody else give me shout-outs, too. Just cuz it makes me smile:-)**

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"Have you thought about it?"

It felt like he was speaking a foreign language…one of the few that she _wasn't _familiar with. One hand cupped the side of her face while his lips made a slow journey across her jaw line to her earlobe, where he paused to nibble. Warmth was pooling in her belly and her eyes had fluttered shut.

"Huh?" Apparently, she had left her eloquence back in Illinois, where she had spent the past week.

He pulled his head back for a second. "You said you'd think about it. Us living together." He willingly returned his mouth to her neck and suckled there gently when she guided his head back to the spot.

"I literally just got back fifteen minutes ago, Booth. Mmm." He had found that sweet spot right under her ear and was giving it loving attention. "Not only have I not gotten to drive half the time…ah…I haven't even gotten to do it once yet."

"I know." His hands slipped beneath her jacket and caressed the sides of her body through the thin material of her blouse. "I figured if I wanted to make any progress, I better start working on you right away."

She was beginning to think maybe coming here wasn't her best idea. Her flight had gotten in a little early, so after fighting with herself for a little while (it was another one of those feeling- pathetic moments) she decided that her first stop would be to FBI headquarters to visit Booth. She justified her action by reminding herself that if she didn't steal this hour with him, she wouldn't get to see him until Saturday since he was picking Parker up right after work today. His grin as she presented herself at his office door melted her, and when he slammed the door shut and began kissing her, most of her remaining resolve dissolved into thin air. Much more of this, and she feared he would have her agreeing to be a housewife before she left the building.

"That's what this is? Working on me?" She tried to sound irritated, but the attempt was ruined by her low moan of pleasure as his hands circled around her to her ass, and lightly squeezed.

"Partially. The other part is me trying desperately to get enough of you before I have to leave. Although we all know that's a lost cause, because I can't get enough." She hadn't even noticed him backing her up to his desk until he lifted her gently to sit on the edge. He stood between her legs to kiss her, and her skirt rode up dangerously.

"We can't do this here. You don't even have a lock on your door." Her body shivered as he bent to run his tongue along her collarbone.

"I know that, too" he admitted sadly. But this didn't stop him from pressing closer between her legs, allowing her to feel the ridge of his erection against her thigh. "But just one thing first?" He held up one index finger. She looked at him incredulously. He lowered that finger and slipped it up her skirt, using the pad of it to softly tickle her clit through her panties. She gasped; it had been far too long to endure this kind of stimulation. "Maybe two things," he amended, and added another finger, drawing them slowly up down the now-damp material covering her vulva.

"This is _so _unfair," her strained voice protested, while her hips did the opposite and strained against his fingers. Unfair indeed. At just what point would it start to feel like they could control themselves around each other? How long could one possibly maintain this level of desire?

There was a knock at the door. She sprang from the desk at the same time he practically leaped over it to sit behind it. Her hands worked frantically to smooth down her hair and clothes.

"Agent Booth? It's Cullen."

"Come in, sir." Thank God the man had the courtesy to knock.

The door opened. "Agent Booth, I just wanted to update you on the status of that case before you…oh, I didn't realize that you had company. Hello Dr. Brennan. Welcome back."

Her face a fiery red, she gave him a small wave.

"Well, come see me after you're done consulting with Dr. Brennan so we can touch base before you leave for the weekend. There are a few things we should talk about."

Booth nodded vigorously. "Sure thing, sir."

"Great." Cullen made a move to leave, then paused and turned back. "Hot, isn't it?"

"What?" they said in unison, staring at him dumbly.

"This heat wave. It's a new record for D.C. Wonder when it's going to break."

Brennan and Booth both sighed in relief. "Yes, sir," Brennan agreed. "I was just wondering that myself."

He smiled (what passed for a smile on Cullen), then exited, pulling the door shut behind him.

They stared at each other for a moment, caught somewhere between horrified and amused. Finally, they chose amusement and dissolved into embarrassed laughs.

"Well that makes it official," Booth declared. "The boss walking in is definitely a mood-killer."

"Agreed." Her flushed face dropped into her hands. "We are crazy, Booth."

"Agreed," he repeated, smiling.

"It was probably a good thing. You have to go soon. And I wanted to stop in at work to check on some things before this weekend."

"Okay. And you need time to…think about things…too."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm always thinking about something," she reminded him.

He circled the desk, and drew her mouth to his with a finger under her chin. "I have to be a full-time dad tonight. But just so you know…that's the _only _reason why I'm not sneaking you in my window through the fire escape so you can sleep in my bed."

"Understood." She smiled. "I'll come around ten tomorrow morning?"

"Perfect." He kissed her again. "This is going to be awesome, Temperance."

The hope in his eyes tugged at her heart, and she wished desperately for things to fall into place as naturally as he believed they would. "I know." She squeezed his hands before reluctantly pulling away from him. "Say hi to Parker for me." She paused. "And tell him that the T. Rex I'm going to show him is as long as twelve of him laid end to end."

Booth's eyes bugged out. "Seriously?"

She laughed. "That wasn't meant to impress _you_." She kissed him one more time. "Have a great night, Booth. I'll see you tomorrow."

Halfway down the hall, she heard his voice floating after her. "Think about it!" he called.

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If he was worried that she wouldn't think about it, he needn't have been. Although the changes that had come over her life had in reality been fairly gradual, she still felt a little dizzy when she thought about them, as if they came at lightening-speed. Tomorrow, she was taking a day-trip with her lover (and it wasn't just an expression anymore—they truly _had _confessed their love) and his child. And, she was actually considering living with him. For her, that was about as permanent as it got. As exhilarating as it felt, she felt the instinctive urge to rein things in. Her life of relative solitude was perpetuated as much to protect others as it was to protect her. The thought of hurting either Booth or Parker with her inability to be what they needed—well, that was too devastating to think about.

These thoughts swarmed her as she drove to the lab. She expected to be alone there, and knew it would feel soothing to plan out how to catch up with the work she had missed. It would feel safe.

She had so anticipated the lab to be empty that she nearly jumped out of her skin when somebody approached her after she had sat down at her desk. "Dr. Brennan, you're back."

"Cam," she gasped, her heart fluttering.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to sneak up on you. How was Illinois?"

"Hmm." Her surprise-fueled pulse began to slow a bit. "Well, the one-acre patch of land that we were excavating was pretty dirty and hot and depressing considering all the people that died there. But the view of Chicago from the plane on the way home…just beautiful."

Cam smiled. "I guess it's a silly question. You weren't there for a vacation."

"No. But I guess it's good to have a change of pace now and then, right?" The women shared bemused looks, both knowing that Dr. Brennan still found adjusting to 'changes of pace' a little difficult. "What are you doing here right now? Normal people are supposed to be home, I'm told."

"I was about to leave. Was trying to pick up the slack a little bit. I don't think any of us realize how much you do here until you're gone…suddenly we're backlogged with work."

"Oh." Brennan felt a little pleased, feeling that underlying this comment was a bit of appreciation.

"To tell you the truth, I'm surprised to see _you _here as well. You've been taking your weekends off lately. That's not a criticism, by the way…it's good to see."

"Yes, well…" she paused, trying herself to understand why this was where she always came when she felt confused. "Being around all this science…it helps me think more clearly. Organizes my thoughts." She smiled. "That's probably not normal either, is it?"

Cam shrugged. "What's normal?" Now _that _was the question, wasn't it?

"Have you ever cohabitated before?"

Her boss's eyebrows raised at the abruptness of the new topic. "You mean with a boyfriend?"

She nodded.

"Yes. A few times, actually."

"How did that work out?"

"Wasn't for me." Cam smiled a bit, then corrected herself. "Or, I suppose the relationships ended up not being for me. The living together was fine."

Brennan seemed to be turning this around in her head for awhile. Cam let her. Once she had begun allowing herself to be amused with her lead forensic anthropologist's eccentricities, rather than annoyed, her patience with her had increased triplefold.

"So would you do it again?"

This time, it was Cam who considered. "I suppose. If it felt right. Then again, I'm not sure if it would at the moment—I'm pretty focused on my career right now."

Dr. Brennan nodded slowly. "It just seems like such a big thing. I mean, sharing your space with someone really necessitates sharing your life with them. There's not any place to escape to…" her voice trailed off and she seemed far away for a second. Suddenly, awareness came back to her eyes and she focused on the other woman. "It's weird that we're talking about this, isn't it?"

Cam had to laugh, although she tried to keep it mostly on the inside. Brennan didn't seem embarrassed at all; it had simply occurred to her that other people might find it odd that she chose Cam with whom to discuss this particular topic. "A little. But like I said before, what's normal?"

She smiled a bit, but remained silent, allowing her relatively new awareness of social niceties to help her hold her tongue.

"Look, Brennan…" Cam pulled up a chair and perched on the edge so that they were eye level. "You and I have never pulled punches with each other, so I'm just going to say this and get it out there. It's obvious that you've been happier over the past weeks, and I think that's great. And it's obvious that Seeley's been happy, too. And that you make each other happy…well, that's great too. Really."

In a strange way, Brennan was touched and a little relieved at this. "Thanks, Cam."

"And I can't tell you what to do when it comes to a decision about living together. But I _can _tell you that if you are concerned that we will perceive you as less of your own person if you make that choice…stop worrying about it. We would never make that mistake. And, I'm willing to bet, neither would Seeley." She smiled. "So, you can just think about that for awhile." She stood to leave.

"For people who tell me I think too much, everybody seems overly anxious for me to do it more."

Her boss patted her on the shoulder. "Don't stay too long, Dr. Brennan. There's lots going on outside this lab"

Brennan watched her go, thoughtfully. Yes, there was much to consider. And as precise and true as science could be, she wasn't sure it could help her with this one.

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Their day at the museum, Booth decided, did not go well. To say it went well implied that there was some sort of task to accomplish and excel at; the day had _not _in any way been a task, but rather a particularly joyful slice of life that seemed to occur and unfold as naturally as breathing.

Booth hung back for much of the time at the museum, preferring to observe his partner and son's interactions.

His intelligent, curious son had a million questions for Temperance, and she answered them with a patience that she rarely displayed (at least not to Booth), with a mind towards his learning. She kneeled down to Parker's level as she helped him sound out the difficult scientific names of some of the dinosaurs and pointed out the features that made them different from one another. She promoted his self-efficacy by helping him answer his own questions, once he knew them. ("What did that one eat?" "Remember what we said about their teeth? Can you tell what he ate by looking at them?" "Plants!" Followed by a little dance by his son when she rewarded him with a nod and squeeze to the shoulder.). Not only this, but she listened with interest while his son taught _her _about what he had already learned about dinosaurs through his own online research. By the time they left the museum to get lunch, Parker was gazing at his partner with an adoration he typically reserved for baseball stars and the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

"Daddy," he whispered, motioning for Booth's closeness when Brennan left to get a refill of soda. "Dr. Brennan knows _everything_."

Booth had to laugh. "No one knows everything, buddy. But…Dr. Brennan does come pretty close."

The rest of the day was leisurely. They got ice cream and rented paddleboats and spent an hour and a half in the Discovery Store. When they returned home, Brennan had been planning on leaving, but Parker insisted that she stay for dinner. Then, he insisted that she stay and play Candyland with them, and was delighted when she wasn't familiar with the game and he got to explain the rules. And then, his eyes barely staying open, he insisted that she be there while his father read him his bedtime story. By the time he fell asleep, the two partners were, themselves, practically collapsing from the busyness of the day.

"That child has _energy,_" Brennan declared, falling on the sofa and yawning.

Booth nodded and sat beside her, putting his arm around her. "Most kids do. If you could bottle it and sell it, you'd be a billionaire."

"I'd buy it." She rubbed her eyes. "Do I look as worn out as I feel?"

He looked at her for a long moment. "Actually…and I have no idea how this is even possible, so don't ask…you have never looked sexier to me than you do right now."

She chuckled, sure he was teasing her. "Yep…nothing like a rousing game of Candyland to add to a woman's sex appeal." Her smile faded when she took in the solemnity with which he was gazing at her. "Oh…you're serious?"

In response, he kissed her, softly at first, then with growing ardor. His tongue sought entrance to her mouth as she pulled him closer, luxuriating in the contact as her body reminded her it had been a long while since they were together like this.

She pulled back; both were breathing a little heavier now. "It's late…I should go."

"Stay."

"Booth." She stilled his hand, which was moving slowly up her inner thigh. "You know I'd love to, but I have no interest in traumatizing your son when he wakes up and finds out I never left."

He was stroking her hair. "I think you should give my son a little more credit. Rebecca's already had that conversation with him, how grown-ups who care about one another sometimes sleep in the same bed. I very much doubt that seeing you here in the morning will cause Parker to need years of therapy. In fact, I'm pretty sure that he'll be absolutely thrilled and be adamant about making you pancakes."

"You really think he likes me?" She looked a little vulnerable in that second, and again he felt the urge to pin her to the couch and kiss her senseless, just for caring what his son thought about her.

"I suppose I'd have to ask him. But if you ask _me_, he thinks you are better than chocolate and pixie sticks." He pressed kisses against the part of her throat that was exposed when he lifted her hair away. "You know who else likes you? His father."

She gasped a little as he licked at her tender flesh. "Better than chocolate?"

"Better than the whole Hershey factory." He laced his fingers with hers. "Come on." He tugged her towards his bedroom, and she followed, only a little bit reluctantly.

"Are you sure this isn't irresponsible?" she whispered, as he quietly closed the bedroom door and sat before her on the bed, intently beginning to undress her.

"It's okay, Temperance. If Parker needs something, he knows to knock first." He slid her shirt off over her shoulders. "God. You are so damn beautiful." Her arms wrapped around his neck as he trailed his mouth across her belly. "And there is nothing irresponsible about sharing the relationship with the woman I love with my son. I'm actually pretty sure that's the way it's supposed to be."

She was anxious to relieve the last vestiges of her concern. "The last thing I want to do is confuse him, Booth."

He paused his exploration and looked up at her seriously. "You know how I know he won't be confused?" She shook her head. "I have never had another woman here at the same time as my son. He's a smart kid. When he sees you here, he's going to know right away that you are special. That this isn't some fly-by-night type of thing." Her breath caught at the enormity of his words. "Parker's going to know that you are part of my life now. And his, too." His hands went to her hips, pulled her closer. "Will you let him be part of yours?"

A shiver of fear went through her. Was she really able to do this? Was she able to commit to try to be what both Booth's needed her to be?

Exhaling the breath she had been holding, she nodded. "Yes."

He smiled. "Then I can't imagine anything more right than you being here right now."

She cast her fears aside. There was no guarantee that they wouldn't visit her again…but she would manage them. Right now, she felt overwhelmed by a desire for him that surpassed sex. While she undressed him, she was struck by the dichotomy of what she had witnessed of him today. The strong, masculine virility of him as he responded to her touch and touched her in return, melding with the sensitive tenderness that he exhibited when he was being a father to Parker. The fact that the potential for both existed within him suddenly made him almost unbearably sexy, and she realized then why he had found her even more desirable after watching her interact with his son.

When they were both undressed, they slipped under the covers as quietly as possible…she laid on top of him and allowed her arousal to grow at the feeling of the chiseled hardness of his body against hers. His hands stroked her sensitive skin from her shoulders to her bottom, squeezing there. Her nipples brushed against his chest, and the head-to-toe contact made them gasp softly into each other's mouths.

"Have I mentioned that I missed you?" he whispered shakily, pressing his erection into the cleft between her thighs as if to prove his point.

"I missed you, too, you know." Her kiss seared him, right before her hand nudged him into position between her legs. "And not just because of this, either." She eased down and let her body envelop him. They buried their faces into each other's shoulders to muffle their moans. Their joined bodies became the core of a pleasure that radiated outwards into their torsos and limbs. Their lovemaking was almost excruciatingly slow and quiet, which allowed a gradual buildup to what was almost certainly going to be a momentous explosion. Lips met; fingers found each other and clasped together. Every part of them was joined and working in unison to maximize the intense feelings.

"Live with me," he breathed. He struggled to keep his strokes smooth and quiet while he felt most of her muscle groups contract involuntarily around him.

"One thing at a time, Booth." She was gasping quietly, using her inner muscles to do much of the work that was usually accomplished by more vigorous thrusting.

There was something incredibly sensual about the relative stillness of this union. "I love you." He held her so close that their bodies were almost indistinguishable.

"I know." She wasn't sure if it was the sex or the feelings or his words that pushed her into climax before she even knew what was happening to her, but suddenly she was seeing stars. "I love you too," she whimpered, setting off his own chain reaction of explosions in his body. They were squeezing each other so tightly they could barely breathe, but it was just as well since air seemed relatively unimportant right now.

Their kisses grew less passionate and more calming as they sighed their way down from some great height. Their exhausted bodies relaxed into one another once again.

"That's manipulative, you know," she whispered sleepily into his ear. "Asking me to make decisions when I'm obviously…not thinking logically." She didn't sound annoyed. She was merely making a point.

"A guy's gotta do what he's gotta do." He kissed the side of her face and closed his eyes. He hadn't felt this content in a long while. His partner was in his arms. His son was in the room down the hall. If there were no such thing as perfect, this was pretty damn close. Before drifting off, he wondered if this sense of family would ever feel as right to Temperance as it did to him. She had made a promise to him on that night to let him and his son be a part of her life. As sleep overtook him, he made a promise to himself to try to make that the best decision she had ever made.

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**A/N: Oh, lurkers. I used to be just like you…hiding out, reading, wondering if anything I said could possibly mean anything or make a difference for the writer. I will share with you what I've learned…yes. Any genuine comment you make means the world. So take that minute to press that button. I believe I can speak for all other writers as well when I say that it is not a waste of your time!**


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N: When art imitates life…it is pretty transparent, I believe, that this chapter mirrors my own worries about this story. Luckily, it has had somewhat of a therapeutic effect. I think most of my concerns have been allayed. Thank you so much to my reviewers who assured me that this wasn't getting old for them. I'm still lovin' it myself, I've gotta say. Please keep reading and reviewing if you are still enjoying, to keep my paranoia at bay.**

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"It doesn't have enough sex in it."

She looked at him disbelievingly. "Are you kidding?"

He shook his head vigorously. "No kidding. By now, people have certain…expectations. You can't let them down."

"It's a mystery, Booth. And a thriller. It is _not _supposed to be erotica. I'm not going to skimp on the substance just to make room for more sex."

He held his hands in the air, as if in surrender. "Hey. You asked for my opinion, and I'm just giving it to you. At the end, I wanted more sex. And if it feels that way to me, I think others will have the same idea."

Considering this, she tried to ascertain whether or not Booth was being an unbiased critic, or just being a _guy_. She had given him her latest manuscript to proofread—the first time she had ever entrusted him with such a preview. As they lounged in her apartment on a Tuesday night, her with her wine and him with his beer, he took her through chapter by chapter, explaining his thoughts along the way. It pleased her that he had obviously read it thoroughly; he had valuable feedback for her about the flow and readability of the story, and he was highly admiring of the whole piece. This was his only real complaint. But somehow, it bothered her quite a bit—perhaps because she was struggling a bit with the 'sex' issue herself. How he always seemed to notice and zero in on her difficulties, she still wasn't sure, but it definitely made her slightly uncomfortable.

Deciding to change his approach, he eased a little bit closer to her on the couch. "It's just such a big contrast, I think…your last novel was so hot. It was my bedtime reading for months, seriously." She had to smile at this. "It almost seems like you must have toned this one down on purpose."

She looked down at her lap. Talking about sex was never an issue for her—when she wrote about it in her books, her reserve of sensuality was easily tapped and free-flowed onto the pages. She knew it delighted her readers, and honestly, she got a little thrill out of it herself. But this time… "Well…maybe I did."

His face was completely mystified at this. "Why on God's green earth would you do that? You have this natural gift for writing the sexiest stuff, and you are going to hold it back? That's just…_cruel_." She knew he was half-kidding, but his confusion was the real deal.

"Hmm." She thought about the best way to try to explain herself, knowing that however it came out it was going to make her seem embarrassingly self-conscious. "Here's the thing…my characters…they are in this new relationship, right?" He nodded. "And they have been expressing the physical side of that in the past few novels." She wrung her hands a bit. "I just want to make sure that it…doesn't get old."

"Get old?" he repeated, taken aback.

"Yes. There's only so many ways to express how they feel about one another. I don't want my audience to tire of them, or find them…boring after all is said and done."

This only served to puzzle him more. The complexity of Bones' characters was limited only by the scope of her imagination, of which, as far as he had seen, was endless. Back when they had first met, he had been mystified by how so much creativity could exist in this rational, detached woman. Of course, now he knew better. "I don't see how they could be boring with you writing them." He had never known Bones to worry about these kinds of things before. What was going on? Unless…

"Bones."

"Yeees?" She looked at him nervously. Revealingly.

"You wouldn't happen to be projecting any of us onto your characters, would you?"

"No," she replied, a little too quickly.

"Are you sure?"

"Why would you think that? Our relationship isn't boring…I don't think. And the sex is still great."

"Still great? Implying that you don't believe it will always be great."

"Well…I don't know, Booth." She was obviously uncomfortable, but he found it a little endearing. She sipped at her wine to give her a second to think. "I mean, it would be natural for, at some point, the level of sexual desire we feel for one another to cool off a bit. It can't always feel so new…and so exciting…" A hissing exhalation left her lips when he rest his hand on her inner thigh and squeezed gently there, as if to prove a point. She instantly felt warm all over. How could he _do _that…every time? He smiled, knowing the reaction she was having.

"Are 'newness' and 'great' synonymous when it comes to sex?" he asked her.

She laughed softly. "I'm not sure I've been in any relationship long enough to know."

He felt a mixture of sadness and pride at this, a little arrogantly sure that this would be the relationship that would last long enough for her to find out. "I know you hate psychology, Bones. But bear with me for a few seconds. You worry that the sex getting old would signal the end of your story, an ability to maintain a necessary level of excitement. Do you have the same fear about our relationship?"

Her eyes on him were a little apprehensive. "Is this one of those 'relationship talks' that women are supposed to initiate and men are supposed to shy away from?"

He laughed. "I suppose it is."

Her frown said it all. "I'm not sure I like it."

His fingers began to run gently up and down her inner thigh. "Do you like that?" The goosebumps that formed on her leg showed him she did.

Struggling to retain rational thought, she reached inside herself to try to access her true feelings. It was becoming a little easier to do this, but it still didn't typically feel natural. "I guess I've been thinking a lot lately about what keeps us tied together. And, before you ask, I _know _it's not just the sex…so don't worry about convincing me about that. But the physical aspect…the desire…is a _big _part about what makes this so attractive, isn't it? Wanting someone so badly…it keeps things going, even when it gets hard."

To show her he was really listening, he refrained from titillating her with his hands, holding her own instead. She missed the feeling of him exciting her, and to her this just confirmed what she had already been thinking.

"I just wonder…if that desire wasn't so powerful anymore…" she trailed off, and he knew that she was worried that whatever she said next was going to make her feel vulnerable. He squeezed her hands encouragingly. "Would you still want to be with me as much? Would you still want me to live with you, and be together in the long-term? Because that's something that we really should try to anticipate, Booth. So we can deal with it if it happens."

He wondered how he should deal with this. He, in large part, had been the reassuring one in this relationship, and he mostly enjoyed the role. Understanding that Brennan had minimal experience with this type of relationship and a deeply embedded fear of abandonment, he had been patient with her, delighting in her growing trust as he promised her, again and again, that she could count on this: this was for real. He had no problem with reminding her, as much as she needed, of his love. But there came a point when she had to maintain her certainty about the relationship _without _his prompting. She had to answer her own questions and doubts in a comforting way, whether or not he was there to help her with it.

"I'm hearing two questions here, baby. And I have my own thoughts about them, but I want to see if you can guess what I'm thinking, and what I'm feeling."

"I'm not a mind-reader, Booth."

"No. But I think you know me pretty well by now, so let's give it a shot. The first question is, would we still want to be together if we were only having sex, say, three times a week instead of seven. If our relationship would still be exciting enough."

She grinned at him knowingly. "I guess I do know what you'd say. Being the romantic that you are, you'd say that we'd want to be together whether we were having sex or not. That we'd still have the other two sides to your damn triangle, so we'd be okay."

He held back a laugh. "And what do you think about that?"

There was a pause. "I suppose I like the time we spend together. Even when we aren't having sex."

"_Really? _You like me that much? Even when I'm not on top of you?" She laughed and shoved him playfully. "The next thing you're going to be telling me is that I have a personality or something."

"I know you have a personality. I believe it's called 'Type A.'"

"So I've been told. It's a good thing that you love that about me, huh?"

"Maybe I love you in spite of it." The word still felt strange when it left her lips, but not bad. It reminded her a little of the feeling she got when she went bungee jumping in college.

"In any case…that feeling doesn't disappear when we get out of bed."

"No. Or off the plane. Or out of the car. Or back indoors. Et cetera."

"My God. We are animals, aren't we?"

Now she was laughing in earnest, almost grudgingly. "I thought that we were supposed to be having a _serious relationship discussion_."

"Absolutely. Why are you laughing? Aren't you taking this seriously?" This only incited her to laugh more. When she was finally calmed down, she dabbed her eyes and looked him back in the eyes again.

"You said there was a second question."

"Yes. And it's a very important one." He paused dramatically. "Is the sex going to get boring?"

Their previous joking had her feeling a little cheeky. "I think it probably will."

"You think so?"

"I think in a couple months we'll probably have to designate Tuesdays as sex night just so we remember. And we'll wear a big dent in the bed from the spot that we always do it in. Missionary position, of course. And those five minutes will be the sexual highlight of each week."

Now they were both howling. She fell against him and he held her as their shoulders shook together. Suddenly, the whole thing seemed ridiculous to her.

"I'm sorry, Booth," she said as the laughter subsided. "I really do worry too much, don't I?"

"Just a little." He demonstrated the amount with an inch between his thumb and index finger.

Her head still against his chest, she looked up at him and felt a little shiver go through her at the tenderness with which he was looking down at her. "Okay, then, big shot. How are we going to keep the sex exciting, then, so we don't wear that groove into the bed?"

"Think about it, Temperance. Is that anything that we've even had to think about yet?"

She climbed onto his lap, straddling him; she fell forward until their foreheads touched. "I guess not," she admitted. "Everything seems to come…pretty naturally."

"You bet your sweet ass it does." He squeezed this part of her anatomy for good measure. She leaned in for a kiss, but he pulled his head back for a moment. "I have a proposal to make."

Her eyes rolled in frustration. "Let me guess. You propose that we live together."

"_No," _he said huffily. "Who'd want to live with you?"

She feigned offense and made a move to climb off of him. He kept her firmly in place by holding onto her hips.

"I propose…" he wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed the spot where her throat met her chest, which was hovering tantalizingly in front of him… "that we take a little vacation together. Somewhere that we don't have to think about murders or dead bodies. Somewhere that we can be ourselves."

She bit her lip. He _knew _this was going to be a tough sell. "But thinking about murders and dead bodies _is _myself."

He nuzzled his face gently between the tops of her breasts. "That's yourself when you are at work. I'm pretty sure I've seen a side of Temperance Brennan which is much more concerned with the living. And that's the Temperance Brennan with whom I want to spend a secluded week, somewhere tropical."

She arched her back, encouraging his kisses. "I think I must be becoming a mind-reader. Because I know what you are thinking. You are thinking that after a week of wearing me down 24/7, that I'm going to be more sure about this cohabitation thing."

"Not quite," he corrected. "I'm thinking that after a week of us being together all the time, you're going to see how great it is. And then you'll be more sure about this 'cohabitation thing.'"

Thinking about it while his lips worked their magic on her, she had to admit that it sounded like heaven to be away with him, going to sleep and waking up every morning together, not being rushed, just…living. But that meant being away from her work, and her lab. What would she do if she needed the soothing stability that her work provided? What if she needed somewhere to escape to?

"I don't know, Booth. I might miss science, being away for a week."

"You don't have to give up science. You can experiment on me all you want. I will be your willing lab rat." He would never get enough of that gorgeous smile whenever he managed to entertain her. "Come on, Temperance. I'm not asking you for forever…right now. Just a week. Just a week to see what it's like when we aren't being cops and scientists. When we are just Seeley Booth and Temperance Brennan. Being a couple."

"A couple of what?" He nipped at her shoulder as punishment for her teasing. This only served to make her wriggle closer to him on his lap. "I suppose that it _has _been awhile since I took a real vacation." She leaned back for a moment to reach behind her for her glass; she sipped her wine thoughtfully. "So what would we do?"

"What _wouldn't _we do?" She grinned. "Well, I'm keeping it open. But I vote for staying in bed until noon, walking on the beach and knocking each other over in the ocean, and consuming pina coladas and salt water taffy until we both get sick. Then doing it again the next day."

"Well when you make it sound _that _attractive…"

"So you'll come with me? I'll make it worth your while…" Taking her glass and putting it down again, he dropped her sideways back onto the couch and proceeded to smother her with kisses.

"Okay, okay," she gasped, squirming. "Uncle."

He stopped for a moment to beam at her. "Good choice." He then continued his sweet assault on her face and neck.

After a brief struggle to get upright again, she tried her best to frown at him. "You are _definitely _manipulative, you know. No question."

"Teach me a lesson."

"I will." Tiring of being manhandled, she grasped his shoulders and pulled his lips to hers forcefully. Her mouth explored his thoroughly until she was sure he adequately aroused by her playful tongue, at which point she backed off, turning and smiling at him coyly over her shoulder. "You know, Mr. Booth, I feel like you've been having a little too much say in the way things have been going down recently. I think somebody needs to put you in your place."

Oh, he _liked _where this was going. "You are absolutely right," he said, standing up to follow her. While he knew now that she'd be running the show, he was still a bit surprised when she grabbed him by the collar of his t-shirt and, not unkindly, pushed him against the wall. He gasped a little bit, and she looked pleased.

"You're not going to give me any trouble, are you?" Her fingers laced with his and pressed his hands back.

"That wouldn't do me any good, would it?" As if he would…or could…ever resist her.

In reply, her fingers left his and crept up under his shirt. Oh, that smooth skin covering those clearly defined muscles, rippling under her touch…mmm. The man was meant to be naked. No doubt about it. She laid her palms flat against his chest, then slid them down to him stomach, where she finally lost her resolve and tugged the shirt up and over his head. There we go…much better. She took to tracing the outline of each one of those muscles with her tongue. She worked her way up and was delighted by his increasingly obvious squirming when she ran her tongue around his nipples. "Are you sure that you don't want to move this to the bedro…" he was cut off when she lightly dragged her teeth over the spot her lips were just at, creating intense sparks of pleasure to flow through him.

"Are you getting uncomfortable?" She was lowering herself down his body again, dragging her own along his the whole way.

"Uncomfortable probably isn't the right word." His eyes closed and his teeth clenched as, kneeling, she gently rubbed her cheek against the bulge in his pants. Having her face in front of his crotch didn't make him uncomfortable. It merely made him insane with desire.

"You know what I should do?" Her warm breath seemed to sear its way through his pants, providing a tantalizing glimpse of heat of her mouth. With his eyes closed, he heard his zipper slowly being drawn open, and his legs felt a little less capable of supporting him. "I should make you list right now all the reasons you want us to live together. Or, plan the entire itinerary for this little vacation we are taking. And then you can see what it's like to try to think reasonably when you are being pleasured." His pants and underwear were eased over his hips at the same time, so that he stood naked in front of her.

His eyes flew open. Surely she wouldn't be so evil. She certainly didn't _look _so evil, kneeling in front of him and smiling prettily upwards while her hands grazed his hips, squeezing them a little bit. "You wouldn't want to do that."

"Oh no?" Her arms wrapped around his hips now in an embrace, and his naked erection was pressed in between his body and the side of her face. Oh, God. "Why not?"

He tried to remember how to be witty and charming while his genitals commanded him to say anything she wanted, as long as she would touch him more. "Because neither of us want me to be distracted while I think of how fuckin' sexy it still is to watch you take my cock in your mouth." Well, _that _came out lewder than he had intended, but it still was making her smile. Still, he added on, "And, how much I still want every single part of you."

"Hmm." Her hand was suddenly wrapped around him, and his knees buckled. "That's still awfully presumptuous of you." She squeezed.

"God," he gasped. His voice was a little strangled as he forced himself to go on. "You know the only reason I'm bugging you about all those things is because I want to be with you so bad. And besides, it will make it easier for me to decide how to share responsibilities equally with you if we share the same territory."

Well _now _he was just sucking up. It worked, though. Her hands were on his perfectly hard, round ass and his erection was suddenly engulfed by the impossibly soft, moist heat of her mouth and throat. She sucked hard, and he groaned, his hands falling to the top of her head and struggling to hold back from just thrusting away at her so he could steal the pleasure as quickly as possible. He held back, knowing that she was enjoying this almost as much as he was.

She had given away that particular secret awhile back—that while she was giving oral sex, she became so aroused herself that she rarely needed any more foreplay than that. "I love it," she had sighed, while he stroked her and noticed, almost immediately, a surge of wetness from her just thinking about it. "I love the sounds you make, and I love the feel of you getting harder and harder inside my mouth and knowing that _I'm _doing that to you." She looked at him a little accusingly then. "You're always hard by the time I get there, though. Sometimes I like to start with a clean slate." He had laughed and faked an apology for her turning him on so much.

This might not be the clean slate that she had been hoping for, but she was obviously enthusiastic nonetheless. He wondered briefly how she got so good at this, then decided he didn't want to know. One of her hands slipped between his legs, and a finger slid down the crack of his ass to his balls, where she massaged gently. Guttural sounds were coming from his throat, which incited her to increase her speed. There was no way this could get better, he decided, and then of course he was immediately proved wrong. He looked down at her, her mouth and one hand busy with him, and saw what her other hand had been up to: namely, unzipping her own pants and rubbing herself feverishly in time with her strokes on him. She must have been enjoying herself, given the moans around his cock which were vibrating right through his core. Right then he wanted desperately to give her the same level of pleasure that he was feeling. Which might not happen in a few minutes, considering that the point of no return was rapidly getting closer and closer. He wanted to tell her to stop, but felt physically incapable of doing so. It just felt too damn good.

Given these last thoughts, it was a feeling of half-relief, half-pain when she pulled away from him unasked. He groaned and looked down at her again. His cock was throbbing now almost visibly. She stood a little shakily, carefully divesting herself of her pants and then lifting her own shirt over her head.

"You'll let me know if any of this is getting boring, won't you?" She was joking, smiling, but he was not in the mood for teasing right now and he pulled her to him forcefully, trying to kiss the tension out of their bodies. This only served to inflame him further, and he pulled her hips to his, greedily trying to get all the flesh-to-flesh contact that was possible. While his mind was frantically searching for how this was going to be possible positioning-wise, she took the onus upon herself. Her leg swung up higher than he ever thought possible and rested on his shoulder, her foot against the wall. She was practically doing a split vertically across his body. But, her sex was perfectly aligned with his, tilted up, begging for his entry. His eyes widened.

"That _can't _be comfortable."

"I'm not really worried about that right now, Seeley." She had a look in her eyes that told him she was _not _to be messed with.

Far be it for him to deny the woman what she wanted. He reached back and cupped her ass, pulling her as close to him as she could get and helping her to maintain her balance. She raised on one toe just to angle herself properly. When she was satisfied, she lowered herself down on him while he pulled her in closer. A purr left her throat at this sensation, and for the second time he nearly exploded. He was so deep inside her. It was all he could do to not to yank her hips with force to his again and again—but he was terrified of overextending her. It would _not _be good for this to end with a broken leg. So he kept his pumps excruciatingly gentle.

"Harder," she demanded. He pulled a little faster. "Harder." She saw the concern in his eyes. "I _promise _you that I'm not going to break. This feels amazing." She gave him a reassuring smile before her eyes darkened and she again looked deadly serious. "Now give it to me like you mean it."

He just could not _tolerate _when she talked dirty to him. With a groan he pulled her to him hard and thrust deeply at the same time. Her foot lifted off the floor and she grunted…it was the most beautiful sound in the world to him. "Yeah…that's it," she moaned encouragingly. He felt her tightening around him. That feeling pretty much ripped apart his remaining reluctance. He pounded and pulled harder, and there was no mistaking that her cries were those of pleasure. She used her own hands to grab his shoulders and pull his face to hers so they could kiss passionately.

He gasped into her mouth. "Are you close, baby? Because you are driving me crazy."

"Yes." Her body was quivering both with ecstasy and exertion. "Don't hold back. Let it go."

Well, she pretty much took care of _that. _All the pent-up tension inside of him broke mightily, hurtling out his body to that hot place inside of her that always took it hungrily. She waited for it…that throbbing of his manhood deep inside of her that always set off her most powerful orgasms. It washed over her easily, and any discomfort in their position was forgotten one hundred percent as their joined bodies became a source of overwhelming pleasure for both of them. "Yes yes yes yes yes…" she wasn't sure whether it was her or him speaking, and it didn't particularly matter. It struck her that the impetus of this whole encounter was her worry that this was going to become boring, and the sound that came out of her as the waves of climax receded was a half-laugh, half-sob. If she wasn't so satisfied right now, she would have felt ridiculous.

After a few moments of clinging to one another's damp bodies, he pulled his face from her shoulder and kissed her lightly. "You can't get down, can you?"

She laughed. "It's going to hurt. I know it."

"I _warned _you…"

"Hey, I knew what I was getting into." She slowly eased her foot off of his shoulder, swung sideways and began to lower it. A hiss escaped her lips as her hamstrings and her hip joints screamed indignantly at her. She gingerly put weight on the leg and limped around a little bit. Booth watched her, mostly sympathetic but a little amused.

"You really will go to any length to avoid that bed-dent, won't you?"

She raised her eyebrows. "Are you complaining?"

Of course he wasn't. Although, the truth of the matter was, whether they were contorted against the wall or laying in missionary position in the bed, it was still the best sex he had ever had. But he would never oppose her inquisitive, experimental nature, so he kept his mouth shut.

"I think I'm ready for the bed now, though."

Smiling, he scooped her up and carried her to her bed, where he laid her down gently. He stroked her hair. "Do you want me to stay tonight?"

"What do you think?" She tugged his arm gently so that he would lay beside her. He knew that she wanted him to stay, but he still asked the question, out of respect for her and her desire for privacy. One of the things he most looked forward to if they lived together—_when _they lived together—was having their sleepovers be a given.

"So are you going to do it?" he asked her, after they had laid quietly stroking each other's skin for awhile.

She looked at him questioningly, then remembered. "More sex?"

He nodded. "More sex."

"I suppose that if there's one thing I learned in the past months, it's that there's no such thing as too much sex." He grinned triumphantly. "Will you be willing to give it another read-through then?"

"A read-through? Hell, I'll act it all out with you just to make sure it's what you meant for it to be."

She smiled back, finally feeling as if she really understood. With them, the sex could never get boring…either the real Temperance and Seeley, or their fictional counterparts. The day that their relationship became unexciting was the day that her infinite imagination ran dry. And that day, she was fairly sure, would never come.

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**A/N: Funny story…I simulated this position, by myself, against the wall just to make sure it was physically possible (it is! All you flexible people run straight to your labs to experiment!). When I turned around, my cats were both sitting staring at me, with these completely disgusted looks on their faces. Now, they've been sleeping under the bed all day, apparently avoiding me. So thanks to this story, my pets now think I'm a total perv. Heck, maybe they're right, who knows. Ah, the sacrifices I make for my writing;-) Read and review to make it worth my while, wouldn't you?**


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N: The good news, or the bad news first? Alright. The good news is, as I finish out the final two weeks of what is likely to be the last summer vacation of my life, you can probably expect to see a burst of writing, as I try to spend this free time doing what has become my favorite pastime. It's so much more fun and fulfilling than watching TV. Or cleaning;-)**

**The bad news is that it isn't going to be too long until I begin work and actually have a life again…so the writing is going have to go way down on the priority list:-( I had been planning on ending this story at this time, but I figured I'd ask for some feedback first. Shall I end it, providing a satisfying conclusion to a complete story? Or shall I continue, knowing that there might be some frustrating waits between chapters? I'm open to either. Termination is so sad:-( Let me know your thoughts.**

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When she arrived back at work after lunch, she found Angela and Jack huddled over a fishbowl on the artist's desk. Watching them bemusedly for awhile, she finally decided to make her presence known. "Is that some kind of experiment you're conducting?"

Angela looked annoyed. "_No. _These are not experimental fish. They are _pet _fish. This lab needed some living creatures in it that are _not _meant to be sacrificed for science."

Brennan walked over and peered at the two opalescent creatures, meandering around the bowl with their lips puckering constantly. "Pink gouramis. Cute."

"They're kissing fish. Isn't that romantic? We're just hangin' out here. Waiting for them to kiss." Angela kissed her fiance, as if to give her new pets inspiration.

Brennan paused. "Ange…I'm going to have to tell you something that you aren't going to like."

"No!" Her friend threw her hands over her ears. "Whatever you're going to tell me is going to burst my bubble. I just know it."

"Angela, you deserve the truth," Brennan said, and Jack rubbed her back comfortingly.

Defeated, Angela's hands fell down. "What?" she asked, sighing.

"Male and female pink gouramis don't 'kiss.' Two males sometimes do, but it's when they are trying to push each other out of their territory. They don't have arms, so they use what they have—their lips." She looked at her friend apologetically. "So when the fish are kissing…they are actually fighting."

Angela looked at her witheringly. "You know what? That doesn't change my mind about anything. I prefer to think that when they are _fighting, _they are actually kissing."

Hodgins chuckled, and tilted his head back to Dr. Brennan. "Fish…so different, yet so like us." She had to laugh at his wry observation. He turned back to his fiancée. "You are the queen of the reframe, babe."

Sighing, she dropped her chin into her hand. "I think it's a moot point, anyway." She tapped on the glass of the bowl. "I haven't seen them kiss yet, so they must be getting along." She tapped harder. "How do you piss off a fish?"

"Umm…" Brennan hesitated, unsure about revealing her news. "Tell it that you are going on a Caribbean vacation while it is stuck in a little bowl?"

"Yeah, I wish." Angela looked up and saw her friend biting her lip, looking nervous. "Wait. Are you really going on a Caribbean vacation?" She didn't wait for an answer. "Oh my gosh. My best friend is going on a romantic vacation with her hot partner-turned-lover and she's actually comfortable enough to tell me about it." She grinned at her. "You've just made my day Sweetie. I don't even care if my fish kiss anymore. As long as both of us are getting all the kissing we can handle."

Brennan sighed. "The kissing, I've got covered. The work I'm going to miss while I'm gone, I'm a little more worried about."

Angela stood up and put her arm around her friend, walking her to her office. "Don't you even think about that. We'll take good care of the lab for you. All that _you _need to worry about is finding the perfect bikini."

"I've never even had to _ask _before to take a real vacation. I feel almost guilty about telling Cam I want to go to the beach when there's so much to be done around here…especially since I just spent that week in Illinios."

"Illinois wasn't a vacation. Oooohh…" Something dawned on her. "_That's _a little bizarre, I'll bet. Being like, 'Hey, Cam. I'm going to the beach with your ex-boyfriend. And I'm going to rock his world more than you ever could. Is that okay if I take some vacation days to do that?'"

"That is _exactly _how I'm going to ask. How did you know?" Her voice was dripping with sarcasm, and Angela giggled. "It's not really bizarre. Cam's fine with me and Booth. We talked about it."

Angela's eyebrows about came off the top of her head. "Really?"

"Yes. She told me that there was no reason I couldn't retain my independence and still live with Booth."

Her friend's mouth fell open in annoyed surprise. "You're thinking about living together? And you talked to Cam about this, but not me."

Brennan shrugged. "She just happened to be here one night."

The artist shook her head incredulously. "Sweetie, I love you. But you definitely have some strange ways about you." She suddenly looked a little insecure. "I don't have to be jealous, do I? I'm not going to find out that you and Cam have been having slumber parties without me or anything."

The image was so odd that Brennan had to chuckle. "I don't think you have to worry about that, Ange. You could never be replaced."

She seemed satisfied with this. "Alright then. So about this shacking up thing…"

"I'm very ambivalent about the shacking up thing. That's sort of what this vacation is for…to see if we can be together all the time, without killing each other."

"Gotta warn you Sweetie…being together on vacation isn't the same thing as being together in the real world."

"I'm aware of that, Angela. That's why we are doing things one step at a time. Trust me, this is a big concession for me."

Angela faked a weeping pose. "You poor, poor baby…being forced to go to the beach with your boyfriend, who adores you. Boo hoo…" She made to walk out the office door. "I'm going to go find a violin to play for you…"

Brennan called after her, "You aren't making this any easier on me!" Angela had, again, managed to make her feel a little silly. Why _was _it such a big deal to go away with Booth? What was she afraid was going to happen? Having been conspicuously absent for the past few weeks, Little Voicy made an appearance. _"You're afraid you're going to like it too much. That after spending all your time with him, you're going to feel like you can't live without him. Then you'll become needy and dependent and clingy…" _

"Shut up," she said aloud. "That's not going to happen."

If Booth had been with her, he would have beamed with pride at her ability to deal with these doubts all by herself.

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As she stared out the plane window, watching the last of the daylight sparkle on the sea, he watched her intently. Her expression of wonderment was reminiscent of Parker's, when he saw the colossal skeleton of the T. Rex he liked so much. She looked enchanted, and that was a prettier sight than the perfect pure blue of the ocean beneath them.

"I can't believe how white the sand is. American beaches just don't look so…uncorrupted."

"You've never been to the Caribbean before?"

"Never for pleasure. I did some work in Jamaica right after college, but I suppose I was pretty focused on what I was doing. I have no recollection of it being so…gorgeous."

He squeezed her hand. "We deserve to be in beautiful places."

She gave him a brief smile before turning her attention back to the view below them. She was suddenly almost giddy with anticipation to land and see that water and sand up close. And, also, to spend time with her lover without having to share him with anything or anyone. She would have felt guilty about her selfishness if she weren't so excited.

It was a Friday evening, and they would be getting in late…too late, really, to explore their surroundings. He was actually glad for this; while he had done scads of research to find the perfect bungalow in Long Island, Bahamas, he wanted to see it and appreciate it personally. Among the other things he wanted to see and appreciate personally. And, there would be plenty of time this week to see everything they wanted.

By the time they landed, got their luggage, and signed out their rental car, they were fairly exhausted from the day of work and flying. "No offense, Booth," she told him during their ride to the bungalow, "but I think our first night of vacation is going to be spent with me in bed, completely unconscious." He wasn't offended, because he felt the same.

Neither were prepared for the second wind they received when they saw their living quarters for the first time. Because it was dark, they didn't fully appreciate it as they lugged their bags up the pathway and into the little house. But after they turned on the lights inside, the bleariness cleared from their eyes. "Oh, Booth…" She dropped everything and ran out to the patio.

The bungalow itself was small and cozy—equipped with all the necessary facilities to keep the two living in comfort for the week. But the view…it was situated right on the beachfront, with all that beautiful, fine white sand right outside the patio. It blended into the clear ocean; during the day, a pure turquoise, and now, a more mysterious, midnight blue color. The fresh salty smell carried in on the breeze. But most remarkable was how private this paradise was. She could see no other residences in either direction from her spot on the patio. The beach was deserted. They were completely secluded.

Booth silently congratulated himself on making this particular choice for their accommodations, before walking up behind her and wrapping his arms around her. "You like it?" he whispered into her ear.

"Very much," she breathed.

They stood there admiring for a few minutes before he spoke again. "This beach is completely private. Comes with the place." He kissed her temple gently. "Hope you don't mind, but I'm about the only company you get for the next week. At least here. There _is _civilization about a half-mile from here, if we want to explore it."

She looked back at him. "I don't know…I'm a little disappointed. I was looking forward to kids kicking sand on us as they run past us, and middle-aged men bending over in their Speedos to lay their towels down in front of us."

With a dramatic sigh, he replied, "I know…I'm really not giving you a comprehensive beach experience, am I?"

Tearing her gaze away from the water, she turned to face him. "You are giving me a perfect beach experience." Her lips grazed his. "You didn't have to do all this, Booth. But since we are here…I intend to enjoy it." She smiled genuinely at him. "Thank you."

He grinned back at her. "No problem, gorgeous. I told you I'd make this worth your while." He winked. She thought about reminding him that they still had six more days to go before she'd know whether it was worth her while, but decided not to minimize his pride about bringing her here with teasing. He deserved a little cockiness right now.

He kissed her once more. "Hey…should we unpack a bit and get more comfortable, then sit out for awhile?"

"Sounds good." They went back inside and checked out their facilities…bedroom with a king-sized bed, bathroom complete with a whirlpool tub, a decently stocked kitchen. Even a fireplace—a fake one, but a fireplace nonetheless. "Why would we need a fireplace?" she mused. "It's the Caribbean…it's _warm."_

"Ambiance, dahling." She still looked confused. "It's supposed to be romantic," he explained, laughing a bit to himself. Why did he have to explain why a fireplace would be romantic?

Booth's version of unpacking was pulling the things he needed for that night out of his suitcase, letting the rest of his things folded inside. He quickly changed into his pajama bottoms and went back out on the patio, lounging in one of the large, comfy chairs there, while Brennan carefully removed all her clothes from the suitcase and hung them up neatly. She thought briefly about doing the same with Booth's things, but quickly dismissed the idea, as it sounded suspiciously, stereotypically domestic. Once finished with this, she sighed in relief as she took off her work clothes and slipped into her sleepshorts and tank top, and tied her hair in a loose ponytail. She began to head out to the patio, then remembered that despite the warm night, the ocean created a cool breeze that became a little chilling in the evenings, so she grabbed a blanket from the back of the couch. Pouring herself a glass of water, she finally went outside to join her partner.

The sound of the crashing waves disguised the sliding of the screen door that marked her entrance, so Booth didn't hear her come out. She took a moment to look at him, looking completely relaxed and at home in the tropical setting. He was particularly sexy when he was wearing just his pajama bottoms, the rest of him exposed to her eyes and...other parts. Right now was no exception.

He finally recognized that she had come outside. "I didn't hear you, babe." He held a hand out to her.

"Aren't you cold?" she asked, as she eased back into his lap so they were both facing the ocean. She spread the blanket overtop of them.

"Not anymore." His arms wrapped around her waist, and she snuggled back into him, her head resting against his shoulder. They sat silently for awhile, listening to the waves ebbing and flowing. It lulled them both into relaxation.

After some time contemplating the ocean, Brennan looked up at her partner. His eyes had fallen shut—not sleeping, but more likely fully appreciating the smells and sounds and feel of their surroundings. When he eventually opened his eyes and saw her eyes on him, he smiled. "That's the second time I've caught you staring. Are you waiting until I'm asleep to plan your escape?"

She didn't smile back; her mind was too busy working through all the things she wanted to say. How amazing it felt to know that put so much thought into creating this place for them, and how much she appreciated it. How grateful she was for him, and the place he and his son had taken in her life and heart. How excited she was to embrace the possibility of them having a future together. All those things flashed through her mind, but when she opened her mouth only three words came out. "I love you."

He looked a little amazed himself. And the firsts kept coming. And they came fairly regularly anymore, but they always managed to surprise him. This was the first time she had told him she loved him, without being told first.

In response, his head dropped forward and he kissed her forehead, her nose, her cheeks, before brushing his mouth against hers softly, with wonder. The sweetness of the moment was tinged with passion, and they both melted into the kiss as her body melted into his. She quickly became a little breathless. "This is so beautiful," she whispered to him, between kisses." He didn't need to say anything for her to know that he agreed.

Despite their weariness from the length of the day, it felt more natural than anything for him to begin to touch her, his fingertips sweeping across her waist and up the sides of her body, underneath the barely-there material of her top. When his thumbs reached the undersides of her breasts, both moaned softly; her from the stimulation, and him from the realization that she wasn't wearing a bra. The stretchy material of his pants hid nothing, and she had to shift her position to make room for his stiffening against her. Gently, he lowered the blanket that was covering their chests, then he hooked his fingers around the bottom of her top and slowly pulled it up, over her breasts. The ocean breeze caressed her, and her nipples immediately hardened.

"Booth…" she whispered, a little concerned.

"Shh. Private beach, remember? No one can see. This is for my eyes…and my hands…only." His palms grazed her nipples, then he began to softly stroke them. Her head fell back against him and her chest arched outwards, hungry for his touch. The combination of the cool breeze and the warmth of his hands felt incredibly erotic, and she was continuously sighing her arousal in no time. When his hands drifted downwards under the blanket and caught in the elastic of her shorts, she lifted her bottom without question and allowed him to lower them down her hips, touching every bit of skin he uncovered along the way. She kicked the shorts out of their way. She had to smile a little at how naughty she felt, being nude on top of him out in the open like this, covered only with the softness of the blanket. He began caressing her body up and down while kissing the sensitive skin of her throat, and she shivered.

"Are you cold?" he breathed in her ear.

"No way." Cold was so far off now it wasn't funny. Both of his hands slid down to the creases of her thighs, pushing together, then pulling apart gently, repeating this several times. Excited sounds left her as this action caused her clit to be massaged within her inner lips. She was wide awake now, no doubt about it.

Anxious for even greater contact, she carefully turned over, positioning her legs to either side of him on the padded chair so that she was astride him. He reached behind her and adjusted the blanket over her bare bottom, before pulling her face to his. Their lips met hotly, and he mimicked with his tongue in her mouth what was to come. Without lifting her mouth from his, her hands found their way to his own pants, and she urged them down. It felt as though she had two lovers now; him with his bare skin heating hers, and the breeze, whose cool touch caressed her back and swirled seductively on all the exposed parts of her, asking to be let in under the blanket and around to her front so that it could stroke her breasts once more. The whole experience was unbearably sensual, and she found herself hoping against hope that he was ready for her, despite the minimal level of stimulation he had experienced up until now.

"Does my beautiful girl want me to fill her up?" he whispered, holding her hips and rocking her against him slowly. She no longer even considered taking offense to his endearments, knowing that he meant no disrespect and merely wanted to convey his admiration of and desire for her.

"Please," she gasped, happy to have permission to take what she so desperately wanted. She pressed her hands against the armrests, using the strength of her arms to lift her body upwards and onto her lover. Holding herself up this way allowed her to lower her yearning center onto him with a slow, controlled movement, which drew sighs of pleasure from both of them. Every inch he slid into her excited her more, made her feel full to burst. She was as surprised as he was when, upon taking the entirety of him, her body involuntarily began to spasm. She moaned and wrapped her arms around him, burying her face into his neck. Her whole body shuddered.

When the explosion ebbed, she pulled back from him, looking a little embarrassed at how immediately her body had reacted. He was looking at her with amazement. "You came."

"Yes," she admitted.

A slow grin came across his face. "I am _so _good."

She laughed breathlessly. "Yes, you are."

With a throaty laugh of his own, he trailed his fingers up and down her body. "Well, good. We got that first one out of the way then. Now, we can take our time, mmm?"

She answered him by slowly beginning to move, rocking carefully. And take their time, they did. There was no rush to climax, as they allowed the slow rocking to transport them higher. Kissing deeply, their hands explored each other, memorizing how every part of the other's skin felt while making love. The waves crashed, and the breeze blew, and every one of their senses reminded them of how natural it was for them to be together like this, in this beautiful place. As the tension built, she again moved her hands to the armrests, lifting herself up and down upon him to increase the delicious friction of the most sensitive parts of their bodies against one another. To help her, he put his hands under her bottom and lifted her, so that he could thrust up and into her harder. With her body raised, he found himself able to kiss and suck on her breasts. This added stimulation excited them both, and their movements became faster, more heated.

Approaching orgasm, her head fell back with a gasp, her hair grazing his fingertips. "How do you do this to me?" she whimpered.

Taking it as a rhetorical question, he used the remains of his self-control to pump into her harder, once, twice, three times. With one last growl, he dropped her onto him. The impact of him bottoming out inside of her set them both off, crying out, knowing that the only ears to hear them belonged to the creatures of the sea.

Their bodies were scorching, now, trembling. The blanket was no longer necessary, so he pushed it to the ground, allowing the breeze to cool their bodies. She fell against him, embraced by his arms, her head on his shoulder. _Now, _she was tired.

Many minutes passed, and they didn't move. Booth wondered if she had fallen asleep. Then, he heard her sleepy voice, murmuring.

"Maybe the fish _are _actually kissing when they are fighting."

He was thoroughly confused. "What?"

She pulled back, rubbing her eyes. "Nothing, really. It's just something that's nice to think about."

With another gentle kiss, she climbed off of him. Gathering their clothes and wrapping herself in the blanket, she motioned for him to follow her back inside.

Strange times, when one's worldview began to change. A little scary, but she had to admit that it felt exhilarating, to feel so hopeful, so optimistic.

And their escape had just begun.

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**A/N: Jeesh. I could probably eke a whole 4 or 5 chapters out of this vacation…so many possibilities!**

**My reviewers have been particularly awesome for the past several chapters. Thank you to all the former lurkers who finally pushed that button and made my day, and to all those who have been faithfully with me since the beginning. Special love to ForAReason, who took the time after her vacation to write me amazingly thorough reviews. There can **_**never **_**be too long of a review, by the way;-) If you haven't checked out her latest fic, then you should probably do it right this second. It's incredible.**


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N: Here's another chapter of hot beach lovin' for you. Jeez, this really makes me want to take a real vacation. Let's vacation in our minds together, shall we?**

**I was thrilled this week when several of my reviewers mentioned that this story was recommended to them. **_**My **_**story has word of mouth. I am so proud! Thank you so much, super-awesome readers. You make me feel like…well, like I'm good at something (other than school, which I'm decent at but has gotten pretty old). And, gosh darn it, it's a fab feeling. I will try to make every chapter worth the time you put into reading and reviewing the story. **

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Before they were together, he dreamed about her. She appeared, in some manifestation, in nearly every nocturnal fantasy that his sleeping mind conjured up. Sometimes, the dreams were unremarkable; they were working, talking—and occasionally fighting. Other times, the images were terrifying—she was in danger, hurt, and he was struggling to reach her and save her. But, at the time, he actually preferred these types of dreams to the others—the ones were she materialized, coy and teasing, suggesting with her eyes alone that she could fulfill his every erotic fantasy and take him to heights of pleasure that he had never experienced. In these dreams, he gave himself fully to her, without reservation, and she lived up to everything her eyes had promised. But it always ended the same way. He would reach a euphoric pinnacle, his nerves screaming for that final psychosexual release from all the frustration he had been tolerating—then, he would wake up, painfully aroused and unsatisfied. There were times he almost cried; the longing that he woke with was never fully satisfied with his own hand. Usually, if they worked together the morning after these dreams, he was especially snippy with her, although he logically knew it wasn't her fault. He was angry with himself for wanting her so damn bad—when he didn't _want _to want her.

Once they began to be together—really _be _together—the frustrating dreams subsided, thankfully, leaving her to occupy the sweeter, less erotically cruel corners of his slumbering mind.

Until now. Now, she was there again, fuzzy around the edges, but the detail startling since he had by now memorized her body. Like before, he was paralyzed with desire. Her smile promised exquisite torture as she crawled towards him, licking her lips, and he was completely helpless to deny her anything she wanted to do with his painfully excited body. Everywhere her skin touched his gave him a sexual shock; her lips generated a heat that nearly burned him. When she took him in her mouth, his cock was suddenly the center of his universe—he couldn't think beyond it, the titillation she produced with her tongue an unbearable luscious feeling. He was going to come. Hard. _Had _to.

Then, that familiar tug towards wakefulness began. He fought it with a panic—_not again—_but consciousness wormed its way in. _Wake up. _No—he couldn't take it anymore. He had thought the frustration was over.

It was to his immensely pleasurable surprise that when his unwelcome wakefulness arose, the feelings didn't stop. Well _this _was different. In fact, they appeared to become, if possible, even more intense. What the…?

His eyes cracked open, and a pleased smile crossed his face. "I think I've found my new favorite alarm clock."

Temperance lifted her head and winked at him, pausing for a split second before returning her mouth to his swollen cock. He considered for a second pulling away from her so he could give her a thorough, early-morning pounding, but she seemed to be enjoying herself (and to be quite honest, so was he), so he allowed her to continue. He concentrated on the sensation of her full lips sliding up his shaft, where her tongue swiped the underside of the head of his cock up and down before beginning the long, slow descent back to the base. Yes, there were many benefits to being awake and aware…his hips and thighs were soon tensing repeatedly as she increased her pace. "Oh, yeah," he groaned, his face contorted as the paroxysms rolled through his body. She pulled his hips to her edaciously, encompassing all of him and drawing out his pleasure by holding him tightly with her hungry mouth. If he hadn't slept so well the previous night, his orgasm would have left him weary.

She sat up, wiping the corners of her mouth prettily. "Good morning."

"That's an understatement." He smiled broadly at her. "What inspired you to do that?"

She shrugged. "I told you I liked to start with a clean slate. When I woke up I…saw the opportunity." Her grin was sly.

He tugged her naked body down towards his own, effectively trapping her with his arms and legs. She relented to being held for awhile, then began struggling when she tried to sit up and he held her down.

"Booth," she laughed, "let me go. We have a whole beach to explore today. We have a bed at home."

"Mmm. That doesn't mean there aren't other things here that I want to explore." He kissed her and felt victorious when she melted into him.

"Seriously, Booth," she protested half-heartedly when he pulled away from her. "I want to see the sun and the ocean."

He paused thoughtfully. "Okay. But there's something we need to do first." He hopped off the bed. "Don't go anywhere."

She watched his ass appreciatively as he left the room, then laid back and closed her eyes contentedly. Everything about being here right now felt…perfect. She knew that "perfect" was an imperfect concept, and she still wasn't entirely sure what it meant for her specifically. But for now, she was glad to just be in this moment and be…happy.

Booth returned to the room with a towel, which he spread out on the bed beside her. "Here…roll over onto this."

Laughing, she complied, flipping over onto her belly on the towel. "You know, it doesn't count as sunbathing if we're not outside."

"We will go outside soon enough. But first…it's very, very important that you be protected." He produced a bottle of sunscreen, opened it and squeezed some into his palms. His hands covered, he began slowly rubbing the lotion onto her back and shoulders.

"Very, very sly, Seeley Booth," she said, smiling and relaxing under his touch and the coconut scent in the air. Protecting her fair skin _was _a necessity, and this was one way of making the task more enjoyable. She gave herself over to his warm, strong hands, covering every inch of the backside of her body. By the time he urged her to turn around, she was anxiously anticipating what she knew was coming, and she wasn't disappointed. His slippery fingers glided over her chest and belly and thighs, waiting until last to spread the lotion over her breasts and tightening nipples. He continued this erotic massage even as kneeled between her legs and began lapping at her sex slowly with his tongue, leaving not one part of her body that wasn't slick and slippery. After she reached her shuddering climax, she felt very well-protected, indeed.

Afterwards, Temperance really did insist that they get up. Getting ready to go out took little more preparation—they threw on their suits and sunglasses, packed some blankets, towels, an umbrella, and of course, more sunscreen, as well as drinks and food. It helped that the beach was right outside their little cottage. When she stepped onto the sand, she tested the heat and consistency of it between her toes, and reveled at how soft it was. Laughing, she took off into a run towards the turquoise shoreline. Booth trailed behind, grinning at her rare display of child-like wonder. She stood near the water's edge, allowing the foam from breaking waves to cover her feet, while he set up the umbrella and spread out a blanket. She looked at him over her shoulder, smiling at him.

"Booth, you've got to feel this. The water is so warm. And you can see right through it!"

He probably could have fussed with their equipment a little more, but he couldn't resist joining her, dipping a toe into the breaking water just to make sure she wasn't joking about its warmth. She wasn't. It was like bathwater. "You want to take a swim?"

She considered. "In a little while. Can we walk a little bit? It's so beautiful out."

It was…a perfect beach day, sunny but not sweltering, breezy but not uncomfortably windy. The waves were just high enough to make for fun swimming, without being rough.

They walked hand-in-hand in the wet sand for awhile, marveling in the unspoiled beauty (unspoiled both by impurities, and by the presence of others) of the beach and stopping occasionally to pick up and examine some of the tiny, opaline stones that the sea had brought to them. Occasionally, at the very tip of the horizon, they could see the tiny form of a boat crossing the ocean, but this was the only indication they received that they were not the only two people on this earth. By the time they got back to their station in front of their cottage, their legs were a little tired. It was _definitely _time for a swim.

The warmth of the water necessitated no time for adjustment, and it was easy to barrel directly in. Booth was anxious to get out past where the waves were breaking, but Brennan held fast to him, forcing him to dive at the last minute through the foamy crests to avoid being splashed by them. She eventually took pity on him and allowed him to pull her out farther, where the barely-formed waves were merely gentle swells of water that lifted them gently before setting them back down in the smooth sand.

They stood side-by-side, enjoying the feeling of lightness. "So you have been to the beach before?" he asked her.

She nodded. "As a kid my parents brought us to the Ocean City beach in Maryland almost every year. Russ and I both adored it. We'd stay in the water so long that the currents would carry us halfway down the beach without us even knowing it. We'd come out and have no idea where we were. We'd always get sunburns, too…mom kept on reapplying, but we refused to come inside until our sandcastles were _perfect_. It was worth it, though."

He reached for her as they were carried up and down once more. "Sounds like a good memory," he said as he clasped her hands.

"It is." She squeezed his hands back. "These are going to be good memories, too."

"You bet." He suddenly pulled her squealing beneath one of the clear swells. Once there, he gave her a thorough, underwater kiss which continued until their lungs again demanded oxygen. When they surfaced again, they were laughing.

Temperance wrapped her legs around her lover and let her head rest on his shoulder; they rode the waves quietly for awhile. "What are you thinking?" he whispered into her ear.

After a second of consideration, she lifted her head and looked in his eyes. In this light, her eyes seemed to be the exact color of the sea beneath them.

"Do you remember our first time?"

He laughed softly. "Which one?"

He had a point. The past several months had been filled with firsts.

"The time I first asked you to kiss me. And we…you know." She picked the funniest times to be modest.

Pulling her closer, she saw his eyes darken at the memory. "I remember everything about it. I had thought it would never happen again, so I memorized all of it." She flushed a little bit, but didn't say anything, so he continued. "I remember, when you asked me, how my heart felt like it dropped ten stories. I had imagined it so many times, but I didn't feel prepared. I was so worried about being clumsy, not good enough. Not living up to everything that I was in my fantasies of you, with you. But once we started…instinct took over."

She nodded. "No matter how confusing it was—it felt right."

"Exactly." He smiled. "Why do you ask?"

She wasn't quite sure herself. "It's hard to believe that from that…now here we are." Her eyes scanned the horizon before settling back on his own.

Thoughtfully, he replied, "I don't find it hard to believe at all. But I guess that's the person I am. Somehow, I always knew that if we took that last step towards each other, there would be nowhere to go but forward. It could never be just a kiss, and nothing more. It couldn't be just sex, without a relationship. And it couldn't be just a relationship, without…love." She smiled at him a little shyly, not entirely agreeing with his philosophy but being pleased by the concept nonetheless. He continued. "I think that's why I was reluctant to begin such a thing. I knew that once I did, it was going to become…my life. A little overwhelming, to know that one kiss is going to change your entire world."

_That, _she agreed with. "And now?"

"And now…" He met her lips with a slightly salty seawater kiss. "And now I realize that my world needed to be changed. And I am so grateful that you asked for that kiss, because right now, the thought of not being with you like this is unbearable."

She laughed softly. "I can't believe I asked. For any of the things I asked for that night."

"Yeah. You always were the smart one in this relationship." He winked at her.

"Ha. I think you should get a t-shirt that says that."

"Nope. The only reason those words were spoken is because there's no one even close to earshot."

"Mmm." She brushed her lips against his in homage to their first kiss—light, tempting. Powerful. "You want to go back to shore and eat?"

"The shore? Sure." With a final kiss, they carefully maneuvered back towards the land, almost getting knocked over a few times in the process while the waves snuck up behind them. Holding each other up, they managed to get back to their blanket without a major wipeout.

Collapsing onto the blanket, they lay first in the rays of the sun to warm the seawater from their bodies, before moving back under the umbrella to put on more sunscreen. Brennan's nose looked just a little pink, and he kissed her there. They ate the sandwiches and drank the drinks they had packed. After finishing and dumping the nearly-melted ice bucket of drinks that they had brought (on her toes, which pulled a squeal from her), he held out the empty vessel to her. She raised her eyebrows.

"Well you're the sandcastle expert. You show me how it's done."

A smile spread across her face. He had obviously been listening to her in the water.

So they built. She showed him how to get the perfect consistency of damp sand to hold the castle in place, how to properly stack the layers to achieve impressive height, and how to hand-shape the upper tiers into elegant turrets. Hours later, when it was finished, he had to admit that it was remarkable piece of architecture. If Parker were here, this would probably be the point where he would just up and ask to go home and live with Dr. Brennan. Maybe she _did _just know everything.

They admired their (okay, mostly _her_) handiwork. She brushed the sand off of her hands. "What do you think?"

He looked at her seriously. "I think that if you say you'll live with me, I'll promise you a castle just like this one."

She laughed. "You are just saying that because you know I wouldn't want it."

"Well, if you did, I'd find a way to make it happen"

She shook her head. "Why do you have to be so…good?" Really. It made it very difficult for her to maintain her resolve.

"I know. It's disgusting how perfect I am, isn't it?" She smacked his arm, and he grabbed her hand and wrestled her to the blanket. She struggled, but her heart wasn't in getting away. As usual, their sparring melted into kisses, and she soon forgot just what she was annoyed at him for.

His hand ran up her back to her neck, interrupted only by the strings of her swimsuit. "I've got to say that I really love this little ensemble that you picked out."

"I can't take credit for it. Angela gave it to me as a present. She said that I needed the perfect bikini for our vacation."

"Hmm. Well, maybe _Angela's _the smartest one in this relationship."

"You might have a point there." She kissed him again, and she felt his fingers playing at the back of her neck again. By the time she recognized his intention, the strings had fallen down her shoulders.

"Booth! This isn't a nude beach." She sat up and her hands flew to hold up the strings. "We could get in trouble."

"Bones. Look around." Yeah, yeah, private beach. "I told you last night…everything here is for my eyes only. And maybe a seagull or two. But I'm not worried about them." She bit her lip worriedly. Unlike last night, it was still daylight. And they were out in the wide open. "Hey. If you're really concerned about it, we can go back inside."

She looked around, considering. A glance out in the ocean revealed a beautiful sight—the sun was just beginning to sink down over the horizon, turning the sky a blazing orange and making the ocean sparkle. Unbelievably, they had been out here almost all day. And it had been amazing. She turned back towards him. Then, she let the strings fall.

He stared at his lover, with her damp hair and her blue eyes and her unbelievably beautiful body that he finally got to touch and kiss, almost whenever he wanted to. "Everything you see around this place, Temperance? None of it even comes close to the view that I have right now." Reaching around her, he pulled at the bow at the middle of her back so that he could divest of the material completely. Her skin under the top was still moist, and now the late-day sun warmed her naked breasts, causing tiny bumps to appear across her chest. He touched her, his hands still a little sandy, and the slightly rough texture caused new sensations to shoot through her body. The graininess of his fingers pulling her nipples made her moan softly.

"Guess what?" he whispered, laying her back once more on the blanket. She looked at him questioningly. "We are all alone. We can be as loud as we want." He grinned wickedly as his mouth descended on hers and his hands worked their magic on her bare skin.

Being so close to the ocean filled her senses with sounds and smells that were almost overwhelming in their natural beauty; this were matched by the sensations that he himself created inside of her. The sun tingled against her skin. The breeze cooled her. Everything was perfect. That word again…

He touched her everywhere he could without irritating her most sensitive areas with the sand. "Speaking of that first time…did I ever tell you that the first time I saw you naked like this, how I got light-headed? I had never seen anything like you before. Of all the women in all the world, I knew right then that yours was the body that was meant for me to see and touch. I never saw anything so erotically beautiful in all my life." His hands clasped at the bottoms of her swimsuit and rolled them down. She spread her legs slightly once they were off, and he groaned at the sight of her sex, which was pink and swollen with desire for him. He had just seen her like this earlier that day, had buried his tongue deep within her folds until she cried out his name in the way that he was looking for, but now he was just as intoxicated by her scent as he was then. Hell, he was intoxicated as he had been that first time that he was describing. Temperance Brennan was just like a fine wine—she got better and better as time went by.

"I don't think you ever told me that. But anytime you would like to, I'm open to hearing it." Pulling her knees back to where he was kneeling in front of her, she curled her toes into the top of his shorts and pulled them down using her feet. His dark looks had made him tan well, and she could see where he had been covered (and not covered) by the bronze contrasting with white. Locking her feet behind his bare ass, she pulled him towards her with the strength of her legs, setting him off-balance. He fell onto her, smiling at her impatience. For a moment, he looked at her, and tried to take everything in—her body, the setting sun, the ocean, the sand—but found himself becoming overwhelmed with it all. If he could choose only one of the things, she won easily, so he focused in on her and kissed her with a thousand emotions, only a few of which he could have put into words.

It took a few seconds to get perfectly aligned, as they were unable to use their sandy fingers, but as always, the tip of him found its way home. He paused this way for a moment, letting his fingers entwine in her hair. When he looked into the blue depth of her eyes, he could see the sunset reflecting in them, turning the sky brilliant colors. And beneath that, he saw something even more beautiful—her love and passion and radiant individuality that made him adore her like no other lover he had ever known. She smiled up at him, and she _was _the sunset, and the sunrise, and everything else in between.

Sinking into her was like coming home. He sighed, and began moving. She grabbed his hips and stilled them. "Wait," she whispered. He paused within her, both breathing heavily, and he realized that right now she was appreciating her own perfect moment, a few seconds in time that would never again be repeated.

Once her willpower was exhausted, she drew her hips back, feeling the softness of the sand give underneath her and mold to her body, then arched them forward hard. He gasped at the unexpected friction. "Damn," he cursed under his breath.

"Guess what?" she reminded breathily. "You don't have to whisper…we can be as loud as we want."

With that, he took control of the situation, thrusting into her at first painfully slow, timing his movements with the crashing of the waves. Her sighs and moans and cries became steadily louder. He wanted her hot, out of control. Tilting his pelvis, he strove to find the spot inside of her that, when he hit it with the tip of his cock, sent her screaming with pleasure. Probing gently first, then with increased demand, he found it. Her fingers grasped the sand through the blanket as if hoping it would sturdy her, and let out a cry that could be heard over the loudest surf. Holding that position, he pounded into her, pressing this trigger again and again. The last of the day's sunlight gleamed on his back as he pleasured her. He suddenly couldn't hear her anymore and was surprised to realize it was because he was screaming her name as well. They came together at the very moment the sun disappeared below the view of the ocean, leaving only the vestiges of a warm glow over their paradise. Their screams turned to moans, then sighs, then loving words. They embraced, their overexerted bodies shivering towards resolution. Without the sun, it was a little cold out, but together they created their own warmth.

Her head turned and her eyes opened, and she saw their creation. "Booth," she whispered.

"Hmm?" he replied unintelligibly. He didn't want to get off her.

"It might be time to head back to our other castle. Because this one's about to be destroyed."

He propped up on his elbows and looked back. Sure enough, the tide was rising, disintegrating all that careful work. He eased off of her with a hurt look on his face.

"It's okay." She rubbed his shoulder comfortingly. "There are more castles where that one came from."

"But this one was our first," he complained, reluctantly standing up with her so they could redress and pick up the blanket. The water was only about two feet away from them now. If their lovemaking had gone on much longer, they would have been doing it underwater.

"There will always be more firsts," she promised. He knew she was right, and he felt a little better.

They went back to their little haven, showered, ate dinner, and relaxed by the fireplace ("I guess it is kind of romantic," Brennan conceded). Laying here for awhile, Brennan realized something that shocked her: she hadn't missed work at all, not even once. Of course, it had only been two days, but usually she was missing her lab after just a few hours. She shared this with him.

He laughed, holding her tighter. "It's my dream come true…a woman who prefers my company over that of bones and beakers and Bunsen burners."

She frowned. "I very rarely use Bunsen burners." She then recognized his joke, and she looked up to him smiling. "But I like the alliteration." She thought for a moment. "It does kind of feel like a dream sometimes, though. Don't you think?"

Remembering his endless, frustrating nights, he shook his head firmly. "No. It's much better than a dream. Trust me."

She was a little confused by his adamancy, but decided to let it go. She was eager to see just how long she could survive and thrive in this alternate reality of lust and romance and the endless blue sea. And, to make sure by the time it was over, that it _wouldn't _just feel like a dream anymore—it would feel like her life.

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**A/N: Thanks for the input on continuing/ending the story. I'll prob. wait until a few weeks into my internship before making a final decision—see how much energy I have to write. But I will do my best not to disappoint you.**

**If you get a chance, check out my newest effort, Scenes From a Hat. It's like a circus act… 'See SSJL step outside her writing comfort zone, and try hard not to embarrass herself!' Hopefully, more like a circus act than like a train wreck, anyway;-)**


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N: Submitted for your approval—chapter 28. I have many a dedication and shout-out. I Hart Booth, who suggested this particular locale for the smut. You always have the best ideas, Hart—there's an extra-special word in here, just for you, as well. The chapter's finale is for Goldpiece, who is an **_**amazingly wonderful descriptive writer **_**(chastise, chastise, Goldpiece;-) One shout-out for ForAReason, whose reviews never fail to make me do a happy-dance. And another for my new best friend, KinseyJo. Because she rocks. **

**And, of course, big old hugs and sloppy kisses for all my readers. You're all my motivation and inspiration. Thanks bunches.**

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"Alright, I admit it…you were right."

"Of course." She grinned backwards at him as they walked through the door. "When are you just going to just going to accept I'm right as fact?"

He glowered at her for a second, but couldn't maintain it for any length of time—not as relaxed as he had been over the past several days, or as pretty as she looked today. Besides, he knew that she was kidding because she was in a good mood herself…he had "allowed" her to drive the rental car into town, and now, he let her open the door for him since she was walking ahead of him, even though it practically killed him to do this. He imagined that every man in the restaurant was staring at him, thinking what a jerk he was not to treat the beautiful woman at his side like a lady. If they only knew…

The thing that she had been right about was venturing into civilization today after several days of laying and playing on the beach, usually followed in the late afternoon by a dash to the shower and the bed—both which were getting plenty of use. He couldn't imagine that there was anything in town as good as their private paradise, and he had grumbled at her suggestion that they go out to eat tonight. But, even before entering the restaurant, they could tell how gorgeous it was. Elegant and sophisticated, it sat right on the waterfront, so diners could watch the light sparkle on the bay and the impressive sailboats gliding in and out of the harbor. A pianist was in the corner, playing delicate melodies that perfectly accompanied an early-evening dinner. And then there was Bones herself who, despite her fully intact feminist ideals, was looking more femininely beautiful than he had ever seen her in a flowery low-cut dress and her curls piled loosely on top of her head. When she had emerged from the bedroom after dressing, she had almost had to fight him off, as he was drawn to her like a moth to a flame—a tall, shapely, flowery flame. Although he had grumbled, he had to admit it would have been a shame to dishevel her right then and ruin the jealous stares he got from the other men in the restaurant.

After they were led to their seats, he stared at her for awhile with his elbow on the table, chin in hand, as he tried to decide whether he liked her better with her hair up or down. She had such a pretty face, and when her hair was up it allowed that face to be the focus of attention. But when it hung down around her shoulders, it was the perfect accessory to stroke and wrap around his fingers, and it reminded him of when she came out of the shower or right after they were finished making…

"Booth."

"Hmm?" Damn. He had been distracted.

"I asked you about preparing everything for Angela and Hodgins' wedding."

"We don't know when Angela and Hodgins are getting married. She needs to figure out who she married before and get a divorce."

She sighed. "Of course. But that means we have time now. Before when the whole thing was being conceived of in a matter of weeks, we didn't have time to do anything for them. No engagement parties or bachelor parties or anything. This time, it might be nice to give them the whole pre-wedding experience."

He raised his eyebrows. "For someone who isn't so keen on marriage, you sure are enthusiastic about this."

Feeling a little shamed, although she didn't know why, she blushed and looked down at her menu. "I just never had a friend like Ange before…sometimes I think that I haven't known how to be a good friend to her. Since this is something that I have control over, I'd like to do something nice. Especially since everything went so wrong the first time."

She was interrupted briefly when the waiter arrived to take their orders. They hadn't spent much time with their menus, so they sent him away until they decided, then ordered from the appetizing selection of food and wine available to them.

Once he left, Booth told her, "I don't think you give yourself enough credit. You're as great for Angela as she is for you. You balance each other out perfectly. And she knows how you feel about her, whether or not you throw her a big party." Temperance smiled at him, gratefully. "However—if that's something you want to do for our friends, I'll be there to help you do it."

"I hope so. I hardly ever go to parties, let alone plan them. But…Angela and Jack getting married is a very big deal."

"Agreed." He nodded, then paused for a second. "And I suppose it wouldn't hurt for us to put the focus on them for awhile. We _have _been pretty wrapped up in ourselves."

"I think we needed to be," she said thoughtfully. Their wine arrived at the table, and she sipped at it. "But as lovely as it has been, we need to learn how to be a couple in the real world." Remembering Angela's words. "That's why going out in the open tonight was probably a good idea." She winked at him.

"Speaking of going out in the open…" he hesitated, and she looked at him expectantly. "Labor Day weekend. My parents' house. Pool, family, a bunch of kids, some fireworks…and the best barbecue food you can imagine. What do you say?"

"Hmm. Sounds very domestic," she replied, her chin resting on her knuckles.

"It is," he told her honestly. "But it's usually pretty fun. And my whole family is clamoring to meet this amazing, brilliant, sexy woman that I am madly in love with."

"Booth!" she said, blushing furiously. "You told them that?"

"Of course I did."

She was laughing. "No pressure to live up to any expectations there!"

"Does that mean you'll go?"

"Well, yes, I'll go. Barring any major complications at work."

"Wow." He looked slightly amazed. "I thought it would take a lot more convincing. I had a whole argument worked out."

She felt a little pleased at surprising him in this way. "I didn't say I'm completely comfortable with it—I've never really done the whole 'meet the family' thing before." She shrugged. "But…they come with the package, right? So I need to start somewhere."

Grinning, he reached across the table and squeezed her hand. "You rock my world, babe."

"Unless, of course, you _want _to convince me. In which case I'm open to you using your…um…powers of persuasion later."

His intended wolfish reply was postponed by the arrival of their food, which looked and smelled positively delicious. Having subsisted mainly on sandwiches and chips and other foods that didn't take much preparation, this meticulously prepared dinner was a welcome treat, and they began to eat hungrily. Brennan's eyes rolled back in her head with pleasure at the flavor and tenderness of her lobster. "This is so incredible," she sighed, smiling.

"Hey," he said, slightly put off. "I only want to see that expression and hear those words when we are alone together. Naked." His groin tightened a little bit at that thought. Apparently, no one had told the lower half of his body that they were going out in public tonight.

She rolled her eyes and continued eating. "Booth. Stop being jealous of a lobster." It was getting a little ridiculous when the green-eyed-monster was flaring because of a crustaceon.

Now, with amazingly little provocation, his lustful thoughts were free-flowing. "You know what I'm really excited for about Labor Day weekend? Other than you being officially indoctrinated into the Booth clan," he asked between his own bites.

"Indoctrinated into a clan? That sounds terrifying. Is there some type of hazing involved?"

He ignored this. "I'm going to sneak you up to my childhood bed at night. And make all my boyhood fantasies come true."

She burst into giggles. "Oh my God, Booth. You aren't serious, are you?" She saw his eyes glaze a little bit and his cheeks flush. She swatted his hand playfully. "You have such a dirty mind. Bad Catholic," she scolded, but she was still laughing.

Despite this, he looked ultra-serious. "We'll have to be extra quiet, baby. So my parents don't hear."

"That's a great way for me to get in good with your parents. Defiling their son in the next room."

For some reason, this just seemed to turn him on more, and she shook her head in amazement. It must be a guy thing. Nonetheless, after furtively glancing around to make sure no one was looking, she couldn't resist slipping off her heel under the table and sliding her foot up the inside of his thigh.

His breath hissed inward sharply. "You are playing a very dangerous game, Dr. Brennan," he told her.

Oh, she _loved _getting him worked up like this. But to be fair, he had started it with his talk about sex on the homestead… She grinned wickedly and caressed the growing hardness in his pants with her toe. He nearly choked. She found herself responding to his arousal with an increasing desire of her own…

"Are you enjoying your meal today sir? Ma'am?" They looked guiltily up at their waiter, and she dropped her foot back to the floor.

"Everything is wonderful," she told him, forcing a smile. "Thank you."

As the waiter walked away, they looked at one another amusedly. He was perspiring a bit, and her face and chest had taken on a rosy glow. "Does it suddenly seem really hot in here to you?" he asked her.

She chuckled, and looked at their half-eaten dinner. "I don't really want to abandon our food, but it seems that we are going to embarrass ourselves if we stay here for much longer."

He was still a little hungry himself, for more than one thing. "Hey baby," he whispered. "Do you remember the airplane?"

Now it was her turn to almost choke. "You aren't suggesting…"

Oh yes he _was. _His smile was a little predatory. "After we…take care of things…it will be much easier to relax and enjoy the rest of our dinner. And dessert."

"Booth…that was an airplane. This is a nice restaurant."

"Which means it will be much more sanitary." With a smile, he stood. "You know where to find me."

She watched him with disbelief, before remembering that she was in public and was best not caught staring, and turning back to her dinner. She had never been a sexually shy woman, but the past few months…well, they had been just short of crazy. Ridiculous, exhilarating, fantasmic, over-the-top sexy fun, and she could barely comprehend how Seeley Booth had turned her into this adventurous, sensual person. But now, just thinking about a quick tryst with him right under everyone's nose was, insanely, getting her hot. Well, at least they weren't in the States, so if they got caught the news was unlikely to follow them back home... She stood and headed in the direction of her lover.

Once she arrived at the restrooms, she tried to get in Booth's head. She quickly determined that there was no way he would have risked being seen going into the women's restroom, so, after a quick glance around to ensure her privacy, she knocked on the door to the men's and tested the lock. "I think I need to freshen up," she said, low enough to carry through the door but not be heard by others. Lord help her if it wasn't Booth in there… But she got lucky. The door opened and she slipped inside.

"I knew you'd do the reasonable thing," he said impishly.

"Trust me, this has nothing to do with reason." She looked around. "Hey, it's really nice in here." Lucky again…aside from being immaculate and very well-designed, it was a single-unit restroom, so at least with the door locked nobody would walk in unannounced.

His hands lightly on her hips, he pulled her closer. "I don't see how you ever expected for me to make it through the evening when you are looking like this. It's cruel and unusual."

"That's why I did it. To torture you."

"I knew it," he declared, his mouth descending on hers, tongue probing hotly until she was sighing with her own desire. "When you look so put-together, all I want to do is…take you apart," he murmured against her lips. With his hands squeezing her breasts through her dress, her heavy breathing turned into a gasp as he swung her around and lifted her up onto the edge of the sink. The cold porcelain against the bare backs of her thighs was shocking and a little exciting. Goosebumps covered her legs and she instinctively spread them to let him in between, leaning and resting her head back against the mirror over the sink.

"This place is great," he told her softly, pushing the edge of that dress he had been admiring up over her thighs. "But there's nothing out there more delicious than what I have right in front of me." Stroking her face and kissing her lips once more, he slid down her body to kneel in front of her. He gently pulled her panties aside, and she trembled with anticipation of what was coming.

He didn't disappoint. The man knew how to tease, for sure—but he also knew how to arouse her very quickly and intensely, should the situation call for it. Right now, the situation called for it, so he circled her hard clit with his lips and immediately began licking and swirling it with his tongue in the way that never failed to drive her crazy with pleasure. Her hands grasped the side of the sink and she breathed heavily, looking down at him. She felt, crazily, almost a little irritated at his ability to bring her to the brink so fast. "How the _hell _are you so sexy," she panted, thrusting upwards towards his tongue. The tingling in her center was becoming maddening.

He chuckled a little at this, which served only to send vibrations from his mouth to her core, increasing her desperation. Oh, he was _so _pleased with himself, and she might have generated more energy to care had she been not directly on the edge of a mind-blowing climax. She bucked to him furiously, trying to keep her vocalizations down to low gasps.

Without warning, he stood, and she believed that no judge in America _or _the Caribbean would convict her for killing him right now. "_Booth," _she whined. "You can't just stop like that…"

"Relax, love." He was struggling for breath a little bit himself, now, and he was working her panties down her hips while keeping her perched on the sink. "This isn't going to take very long, and I very much want you to come while I'm inside of you."

She wasn't going to argue with _that, _so she tried to keep her impatient movements to a minimum while he unzipped his pants. However, feeling he was taking too long, she finally took matters into her own hands, reaching inside this new entrance and feeling desperately for her prize. She growled triumphantly when she found it. "There we go," she whispered huskily, stroking his erection a few times for good measure and making him groan.

"Did anyone ever tell you your hands are magic?" he asked, pulling her hips to his a little bit roughly.

She was pretty sure he didn't really want an answer to that, so she just tilted her pelvis to achieve the right angle for him to penetrate her. Her sex still throbbed from his earlier attentions, and the feel of his smooth skin, hot and hard against her opening, was driving her wild. Dropping his head in agonized ecstasy, he slid his way into her, drawing satisfied grunts from the both of them. "Jesus, Temperance," he breathed. "No fair…you being so tight all the time and making me want to lose control."

She was about to remind him of the unfairness of ending cunnilingus right before what was sure to be a truly epic orgasm, but the words left her as he began moving inside her. Despite the rush, he kept his first thrusts slow and smooth, just to establish a rhythm that was pleasurable for the both of them. Pressing her head back against the mirror, a few of her curls fell from their pinned position, and she couldn't find it in her to worry about this. Right now, all she could worry about was their joined bodies and their next ascent. They moved faster, moaning softly.

There was a knock at the restroom door. "Occupied!" Booth called out in a strangled gasp.

"How long?" the impatient stranger asked.

Brennan had to stop herself from yelling out, _'Awhile!' _Booth saw the look in her eye and responded quickly, never stopping his thrusts. "A few minutes!" Damn people intruding in public spaces that everyone had a right to use…

Luckily, it wouldn't be a problem much longer, because Temperance was grasping at him from the inside out and he had to put one hand behind her head to keep her from cracking the mirror. Her hands, now slippery, felt around for anything more stable than the porcelain underneath her. They found the knobs to the faucet and gripped them. "Faster, Seeley," she demanded. He complied, feeling the inevitable buildup of his day's tension come to a head. She just had to wear that dress, didn't she? She just had to be so insanely beautiful.

She was being jostled continually and she held on for dear life. Everything was building, building, and it felt like she wasn't going to be able to take it anymore. Without realizing it, she had been nudging the water knobs as she was pushed and pulled. Suddenly, cold water shot out the faucet, splashing onto her bare bottom and almost making her shriek before she cut it off the sound with her own hands. The shock and surprise of the coldness sent her, unexpectedly, into orgasm, and now she was straining against him with all of her might. Her sudden wildness against him tripped the switch to his own climax, and he pulled her hips hard to him one, two, three more times before holding her in place to empty into her. Their insides shaking, they held each other, losing themselves in each other's arms and forgetting for a moment where they were, until there was another jiggle at the doorknob of someone waiting to use the restroom.

Finally separating, Booth laughed a bit as he pushed one of her fallen curls out of her face. "Yum," he said, making her chuckle as well.

"I think my appetite is sufficiently renewed." She checked her watch—they had been in here seven minutes. "Think dinner is still warm?"

"Absolutely. If it's not, I'll complain."

She had to stare for a moment until she realized he was kidding. Smiling, she hopped off the sink top and began fixing her hair. "You took me apart, alright." It took another moment or two to get her panties back in place, the sink cleaned off, and her face presentable.

He kissed her one more time. "Love you, babe."

"Yeah," she wrinkled her nose at him. "When I do what you want me to."

"No." He looked hurt. "Always."

She kissed his pout away. They cracked the door and made sure the coast was clear before exiting. They smiled at one another and squeezed hands as they slipped back to the table.

Dinner, if possible, was even more delicious, probably because now with the sexual tension relieved they could fully enjoy it. Their waiter returned to refill their wine. "I was worried you abandoned your dinner for a few minutes."

Without missing a beat, Booth replied, "Yes, we had to step out to make a phone call." He patted the phone in his pocket. "You know what it's like when you have a little one."

"Ah." If there had been any traces of suspicion on the waiter's face, it evaporated. "Even romantic evenings out can't put parenthood on hold completely."

"Exactly." Booth grinned at him. When the waiter left, Brennan looked at him with her mouth open, although she smiling.

"Seeley Booth! You just lied to that man. And used your child as an excuse. Bad, bad Catholic!"

"Hey, babe. After what we just did, I can't get any guiltier tonight, can I?"

They laughed and finished their dinners. Their extra activities had increased their hunger, so once they were through, it seemed appropriate to share dessert. Eating their cannolis, they gazed out at the boats sailing to and from the nearby harbor, being amused by their names. "I'm telling you," he told her, _'Wet Dream' _isn't a clever name for a boat anymore. It's overused. Anybody who calls their boat _'Wet Dream' _is seriously lacking in creativity."

"How about that one?" she said, pointing to another boat with its name written on the side in wiggly block letters: _'Aquaholic.'_

"That one is a little better."

Temperance decided that her favorite name was _'Persephone.' _Booth preferred _'Cause for Divorce.' _Both agreed that all the boat owners were exceptionally lucky to be sailing at dusk on this amazing day. The weather couldn't have cooperated any better for them this week.

"Maybe, that last weekend of the summer, we can take Parker to the shore. He's been wanting to go with his daddy—he's already been there with his mom. He'll be thrilled by your sandcastle-making abilities."

She smiled at him. "We're just making all kinds of plans, aren't we?" she said, gazing back to the last of the day's sun shining off the bay through the restaurant's window.

"Isn't it great?" he said seriously. "Now that we are in a relationship, all of our plans are inexorably tied together like the Gordian knot. You couldn't escape if you wanted to."

He had expected her to chuckle, but she didn't…in fact, she looked suddenly very much like a deer that was caught in the headlights.

"Hey…I was kidding. No knot. We still have our own lives…don't freak out on me here."

Her eyes met his, wide as saucers. She shook her head from side to side slowly—_'No.'_

Now he was lost. "Okay, babe. I give up. What's going on?"

Her head turned back towards the bay. He followed her line of vision. "What?..." Then he saw it—the lovely, pure-white sailboat, floating majestically toward the harbor while the last of the day's sunlight shimmered on the bay. His heart dropped.

Scrawled on the side, in elegant cursive lettering, was the boat's name: _'Temperance.'_

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**A/N: Ahem. Any indignant messages about the new angsty turn in the story can be sent directly to Goldpiece, who gave me the idea. Have fun with that, Goldpiece;-)**

**Okay, I have an announcement. Please read the whole way through before throwing things at me.**

**I will likely end this story at chapter 30 or shortly after. Because, it began a journey with B & B coming together, forming and building this new relationship, and having it gradually grow into this lovely, committed, intimate, smutty thing. After much thought, I believe that this part of the journey is almost over.**

**(-Ducks-) Hey! I said wait before throwing things!**

**If people are interested in reading such a thing (read: you don't think it would be boring), and the demand is high, I could begin a sequel similar in style about the second part of this journey—which is B & B beginning their life together—as suggested by Kari43. It might be a little slower coming because of my upcoming work obligations, but I am very much enjoying writing here, and I don't want to disappoint anybody.**

**(-Uncovers head-) Thoughts?**


	29. Chapter 29

**A/N: I'm back—finally! Thanks for your patience as I have been busy with my family obligations. Hope this is worth the wait.**

**Thanks much to those who gave me opinions about the sequel/no sequel debate. And thank you for not throwing objects at me that were too heavy. I'm gratified that most folks are hungry for more, and I will most likely grant that request. You're not the only ones who don't want it to be over.**

**Also, lots of people requested an account of Labor Day at the Booth's. Sounds like fun, but I'm not sure…I have yet to create my own characters, and I am a little reluctant to guess at what Booth's family is like. I'll think about it, though. There's a first time for everything, I suppose.**

**Read and review, my B/B-loving minions, and wish with all your might for all our romantic dreams to come true come September. Enough of my blathering. On with the show! **

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As a kid, he hadn't dreamed of being in law enforcement, or in the Army. Until he was 16 he dreamed of being an astronaut. There was nothing more exciting to him than the thought of exploring uncharted parts of the universe, being entrusted to man expensive, high-tech equipment and become an American hero in the process. Of course, it helped that his older brother, whom he adored, had an interest in human spaceflight and kept up with its developments as a hobby.

When Booth was 14, he nearly passed out with excitement when he discovered the advent of Space Camp, and he begged his parents to be able to go. His parents told both of their boys that should they finish their school year with all A's, that they would be able to attend. Booth devoted all his extra time to studying, working diligently to achieve one 'A' at a time, to the extent of neglecting even his _favorite _8th grade activity, Phys. Ed. At the end of the year, he was practically packing already, knowing that he had performed better than he ever had before in math, English, history, and science. And he had been right; he achieved in every single one of those subjects. There was just one, tiny detail he had forgotten—he was being graded in Phys. Ed., too, and his teacher wasn't happy with the decline in performance that he had seen from his favorite athlete. Booth stared at the one 'B' marring his report card while his brother proudly shared his perfect one with their parents. Their dad was always a stickler for the rules—the condition for going to camp was making all A's, and Booth hadn't accomplished this. Months later, as he watched his brother climb onto the Space Camp bus and ride away, Booth tried hard not to hate him for having achieved that one thing that he could not: perfection. He had swallowed that hurt and anger until it became a dull ache in his heart, a vague feeling of betrayal that it took some time to get over.

Now, standing by the pianist in the dining room, looking out the window, he remembered this feeling as he watched his partner walk down the docks to greet her former lover. As soon as she had walked out the door, he immediately ordered a Manhattan with a double-shot of bourbon, knowing somehow that he was going to need some tranquilizing before the night was through.

He was the one who didn't believe in coincidences, not her. That was why, once the significance of the boat that had so flustered her was recognized, he encouraged her to go down to the docks and do what she needed to do, to give the relationship she had with Sully the respect it deserved. The words felt like glass shards passing through his lips, but he said them anyway, remembering her promises of love and commitment to him and only him. He _had _to show that he trusted her…she needed that, and their relationship needed that. But still…Sully had, figuratively speaking, gone to Space Camp. He had experienced the excitement and the thrills and the pride that only this experience could provide. And, God help him…Booth _hated _him for it.

But…he loved Temperance. Loved her with force that nearly knocked the breath out of him. And whatever barriers that stood between them, real or imagined, needed to be addressed and resolved. As much as he hated to admit it, Sully was one of those barriers, so he gave his partner his blessing to face this man once again. He just hoped that when all was said and done, he would never have to watch her walk away again. As many more journeys as she would take in her life, he wanted them to be with _him_.

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Her heart pounded as she walked towards the boat, his figure as he was docking it ever more recognizable and familiar. His presence here was unbelievable. It was more than unbelievable. Imagine him being here, at this exact place, at this exact time…if she were superstitious, she might have taken it as a sign that they were meant to meet here at the docks, on this warm, dusky evening. But, she wasn't, and once she hadn't gotten over the shock of the coincidence, she had told Booth that it didn't have to interrupt their evening; they could just let the boat sail by, finish their desserts, and be on their way. It was to her great surprise that he had asked her to go talk to Sully, and tears nearly sprang to her eyes at his overwhelming desire to display his trust for her, to her.

Now, staring at Sully's form as he tied the boat with his back to her, she felt another kind of gratitude. Sully had a big part in strengthening her ability to trust others, and accept their trust and love. And that…_that _was the only reason she was on this island with Booth right now.

"Of all the tropical islands, you end up on mine."

Although he was facing away from her, she could see the sound of her voice register through his posture. As he slowly turned around, it was apparent that his astonishment matched hers from a few minutes ago. She smiled at him, tentatively. But it was no match for the grin that lit up his face when he saw her.

"Are you some sort of mirage?"

"No. As corporeal as they come."

He strode towards her purposefully and lifted her into an embrace. "You look great," he whispered into her shoulder.

"So do you," she admitted. He did. Traveling agreed with him.

He pulled away. "So what?...how?...huh?"

Laughing, she shook her head. "I don't know. Crazy coincidence, right?"

"Yeah." They stared at each other for a moment, before dissolving into amazed chuckles once more.

"Do you want to go and talk a little bit?" she suggested. She wasn't sure what they were going to talk about, but something told her it was an important conversation to have.

Shaking off his stunned silence, he replied "Oh…yes, of course. Come on up." He gestured to the deck of the boat.

She bit her lip. "How about out here?," pointing to one of the benches over by the restaurant.

"Sure." He linked his arm with hers as they walked towards the marina. "Is that where you were? How you saw me come in?"

"Yes…the windows of the restaurant overlook the bay. I saw your boat, and knew it couldn't be anyone else."

"Wow. That's incredible." They reached the bench, and he eased down onto it. "Some folks I met in Jamaica told me about Long Island. I've been sailing around it all day…this is my first stop. It's as beautiful as they promised." He winked at her. "But I had no idea it would be _this _beautiful."

A blush touched her cheeks, and she looked away from him, towards the ocean.

"Hey. Tempe." His finger touched her chin and turned her face towards him again. "You wouldn't believe how much I've been thinking about you. It was so great to hear your voice the other week. After I talked to you, all I could think was how much better this trip would be if you were with me. It was bittersweet, you know?" Having her attention now, his hand fell back to his lap.

She shook her head ruefully. "I would have driven you crazy. All I would have been able to think about is what was going on back home in D.C., and in my lab."

"That was the bittersweet part." She was gratified to hear him acknowledge this.

"Sully…" she began, then stopped. God, she was _so _not good at this. What could she say to him? How could she even begin to explain how her life had changed since he left? "I'm…"

"You're not alone. I know." He smiled at her, a little sadly.

Her eyes widened, astonished. "What? How did you?..."

Sighing, he took her hand. "Ah, Tempe. Here you are, on this beautiful island, dressed like a million bucks and looking gorgeous, spotting my boat from the window of the most romantic restaurant in the Caribbean. I don't have to be a scientist to add two plus two."

Her blush from earlier returned ferociously, and her head tipped forward in affirmation. "Sully." She bit her lip, trying to find the right thing to say now. "I…I'd say I'm sorry, but that's not exactly right. I know this is so strange…but I truly value your friendship and didn't want to let you pass by without talking to you. And letting you know how much you've meant in my life."

His gaze was sad, but it had a touch of acceptance to it. "I wish I could have meant more." He saw her mouth open to speak, but he stopped her. "Don't apologize. You're right not to be sorry. You deserve so much happiness, and being happy is not something to be sorry for."

Pretenses aside now, she looked at him steadily. "You know who it is that's making me happy, too. Don't you." It wasn't a question.

"Of course. The same person it always was."

She had to smile at his devastating honesty. He was a smart guy. Always had been. She admired that about him. "Now, why didn't you tell me that earlier?"

His face was all seriousness. "Complete selfishness. I wanted you all to myself. I still do. And as long as we are being straight with one another, I should tell you that right now I'm sitting here trying to think of one good reason not to kiss you and make you remember how good we were together. Not to try one last time to convince you to come with me."

"There is only one good reason."

"Which is…?"

She took a deep breath and looked him straight in the eye. "Because I love him."

There. She said it aloud, to another person. It wasn't just an understanding in the private world of Brennan and Booth. It was more real than it ever had been.

Sully exhaled audibly, and seemed to contemplate for a moment. "Wow. That's…that's a good reason." She nodded in agreement. When he spoke again, his voice had a teasing edge. "And there's no possible way I can talk you out of that?"

Thinking about this question, she was forced to hold in a chuckle. "There is nothing you could possibly say that would be different from what I said when trying to talk _myself _out of it." The smile that touched her lips was filled with a million memories. "I've pretty much determined that it's impossible."

"I see." He shook his head. "I suppose I knew that too. Damn it."

"You know a lot." Her hand was still in his, and she squeezed it.

"Too much, Tempe. Too much." He squeezed back, then released her. "You know what? From the moment I asked you out, I had that dialogue going on in my head. And it told me, 'You know, Sully, you can ask her out. Date her. Sleep with her, marry her. But none of it is going to change the fact that at the end of the day, she's Seeley Booth's girl.'"

Brennan frowned. "I'm not anyone's girl."

"You know what I mean."

They were silent for awhile. Darkness had fallen over the bay, and the lights that illuminated them were artificial ones. Inside of her, she felt a door that had been slightly ajar finally closing. And truly, it was a relief.

She spoke again. "I hope this doesn't sound trite, but…I really feel compelled to…thank you, I guess. When we were together, it was what I needed at the time. You taught me that I could be in a relationship that was more than sex, and that it could be good, _not _painful. You helped me start to open up, and after you left, it was that crack in the wall that helped me allow Booth to come in. And that…well. That was one of the best things I ever did." Her gaze was a little pleading, begging him to understand.

He studied her for a moment before speaking. "He better be making you happy, Temperance." His voice was grave.

Her eyes trailed up to the doors of the restaurant, behind which her partner was waiting for her. She remembered what had happened right before they had seen Sully's boat…their meal and their restroom interlude which added to the astonishment she felt about how much they desired one another. Was she happy? _Really?_ The words came out slowly.

"I think…that I am the happiest I've ever been, since I was a little girl. I think that it's been so long since I felt this happy, that I'm not always sure what to do with it. But…it's been wonderful figuring that out."

"Good." He touched the side of her face, tenderly. "You've got a face that was meant to smile." She did just that.

They sat for a few moments, watching the moonlight bounce brilliantly off the water of the bay, and thinking of all the ways that life could change in such a short amount of time. Finally, she turned back towards him. "I really need to go."

Reluctantly, he tore his eyes from the water and nodded. "Yeah. You shouldn't keep happiness waiting."

"No. You shouldn't." She had kept it waiting long enough. When she was a child, she told herself 'When I'm 18 and can be on my own, I'll be happy.' After she turned 18, it was 'Once I finish school and have my degree, I'll be happy.' And after that: 'Once I have a good job…' and 'Once I'm a published author…' Looking back, it seemed so ridiculous for her to have been _postponing _happiness. But now…now, she wouldn't wait. She'd embrace it with all that she was. "Sully…I really, _really _wish you the best." She meant it.

"You too, beautiful." They stood, and he wrapped his arms around her. She returned the embrace. When they seperated, he looked at her seriously. "Don't push the guy around too much, 'kay? He loves you so much, it's crazy."

She nodded. "You can say that again." They shared a smile. "Take care, okay?"

He gave her one last, lingering gaze, before turning and walking back towards the docks. She watched him move towards the boat that was her namesake—the only part of her that he still had. Which was the way it should be. A slow smile crossed her face, and she turned back to the restaurant and marched resolutely up the stairs to the door, feeling somehow lighter. She didn't look back.

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His drink was finished, and he contemplated getting a new one as he sat at the restaurant's bar. Talking himself out of it, he reminded himself that this was no cause for alarm or a descent into drunken numbness. He and Temperance had faced many obstacles more challenging than Tim Sullivan, and tonight she would be curled up next to _him, _just as she had been every night all week. But knowing that, his ire still stirred every second she was out there with him. He did trust her…truly. But that didn't mean that he wanted anybody else in the world to even think about touching her. The thought of her heart—even a tiny _piece _of it—belonging to another man tore him apart, and it made him take a vice grip on his empty glass. If, by some cruel, unexpected fate, she left him now, he wasn't entirely sure how he could recover from it. Even the miniscule possibility felt like a tiny death.

His morbid reverie was interrupted by a tingling sensation across his back, which could only be her gaze upon him. He slowly turned, and as always was entranced by her and her beauty.

"Take me home." Her voice was soft, but determined.

He set his empty glass down onto the bar, and nodded. "Yes." Home was exactly where they needed to be. Conveniently, his home was wherever she was.

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Their ride home was mostly silent, neither knowing the exact etiquette of discussing an impromptu meeting with a recent ex. Nonetheless, her hand found its way to his thigh during the trip, and he covered it with his own and squeezed reassuringly. Once they returned to their cottage, he shrugged off his jacket while she took her hair down, both sighing in relief at the opportunity to be comfortable again.

"It's hard to believe we only have one more night here, isn't it?" he mused out loud.

"Time went so fast," she agreed. Her head tilted as she studied him. "Do you want to take a walk?"

Looking out the patio door, he regarded the dark, sultry night. "Yeah. That sounds good."

So, they walked barefoot along the moonlit beach. This is the first time they had been so close to the water at night, and it had a different feel to it—mysterious, somehow. "It'll be hard to go back," she commented, breaking the silence of their walk. "It's like going back and forth between two worlds. And those two worlds couldn't be more different."

He smiled briefly at her. "I'm glad you feel that way. And I'm proud of you…for really relaxing here. For taking time out of your life to just be with me. It means a lot."

"Your welcome. It means a lot to me, too. That you would do something like this for me. For us."

Shrugging, he replied. "For you…for us…it's all the same thing."

There was another moment of quietness between them, the only sound the crashing of the waves.

"I told him that I love you." The words were unintentional, and abrupt, but they fell out easily. He stopped walking, and she followed suit.

"You did."

"Yes." The breeze, behind her now, blew a few strands of hair in her face, and she brushed them back. "And I told him that I was happy with you. So happy."

He sighed. "You don't have to tell me this, Temperance. Whatever you talked to Sully about was private. That's hard for me…but I know it, and I respect it."

"I know. But I wanted to tell you anyway." Her voice was firm. "Because when I said it to him…it just became even more real, Booth. It made me think about all the ways that I have felt about people in my life, and I realized that there isn't really any comparison. That's why it took me so long to figure it out, I think. Nothing else that I have experienced even comes close to this. And even though it's been this way for a long time…talking to Sully made me realize just how exceptional it is. And how incredible it is to be here with you, now, completely free of doubts about us. I might debate the details of the future, or of the logistics of our life together…but I have absolute trust in the rightness of us together. I want…_need_…for you to know that." She felt slightly breathless after all of this, her heart pumping quickly with the effort it took for her to verbalize her emotions.

His face was unreadable for a moment, and she almost panicked. While she was well within her rights to talk to Sully, the last thing she had wanted to do was hurt Booth, or make him doubt her. There was a second where she felt helpless, unable to make one right move while navigating through this relationship.

The next second, he was holding her, and all those feelings evaporated. Gratefully, she pressed herself into him, absorbing his warmth and his scent and his love. _Yes. _She had asked him to take her home, and now she finally felt as if she were there.

Against the backdrop of the waves, he whispered, "How mad does it make you that I want to mark you, tattoo you with my initials so that everyone and his brother know to stay away from you? That I want to growl like a Doberman when someone else even looks like you? That I just want to ravish you and pump you so hard that you'll always—_always_—feel me inside of you, even when we're not together?"

She laughed lightly, with relief. "Well…most of those things just aren't going to happen. But as long as we are clear that you don't really own me…then, it's still kind of sexy to hear you talk like that." Pulling back, she held his face in her hands. "You know that you're the only man I want, right?"

In reply, his mouth crushed against hers while his fingers laced through her hair. She made a small sound of surprise, but quickly recovered and pressed herself against him excitedly. Despite their hurried interlude at the restaurant, nothing took the place of having ample time and space to explore each other, and now she took the lengthy, thorough kiss that she had been denied while they were rushing to climax before the other diners got suspicious. She tasted the smoky flavor of bourbon on his tongue. "It was nothing to drink about," she reminded him an inch from his lips.

He knew what she was talking about immediately. "I have to self-medicate every second that I can't kiss you," he declared before swallowing her mouth again.

In the back of her mind, it occurred to her that she hadn't seen him naked yet today, and that struck her as completely unacceptable. She had been given this gift of an amazingly beautiful man, and she hadn't yet taken advantage of the fact that she could undress him almost _whenever she wanted_ in the past sixteen hours. Striving to remedy this, her fingers crept between their bodies to reach the buttons of his crisp white shirt.

Feeling her efforts, he chuckled. "Outside, Dr. Brennan? What an exhibitionist you are."

She smacked him lightly on the arm. "I don't even want to hear it from you."

Knowing she was right, he grinned wickedly and reached for the hem of her dress. He lifted it and, after a second of consideration, pulled the whole garment up and over her head. Stepping back to admire his handiwork, his mouth fell open. She had apparently dispensed with her bra and panties while they were inside, and now was completely exposed to him, her skin practically glowing in the moonlight.

Delighting in his stunned silence, it was her turn to tease. Turning towards the ocean, she looked at him over her shoulder. "You're so worried about having me all to yourself, Seeley…but are you willing to come with me wherever I go?" Moving towards the water, she let it wet her feet and calves before boldly going out further and deeper, allowing herself to be engulfed by the warm, salty wetness.

He watched her submersion for a moment, being briefly reminded of images he had seen of Aphrodite rising from the ocean in all of her beauty and splendor. It took precious little time to break his paralysis and began working on getting himself out of his own clothes, briefly forgetting their expense and tossing them carelessly into the sand.

She had moved past the breaking waves, and was facing away from him with just her shoulders and upper back above the water. He swam up behind her quietly and reached around her waist. She smiled in pleasure at the sudden embrace. "Haven't I always followed you everywhere?" he asked. Pushing her damp hair to one side, he kissed the back of her neck, and pulled her backwards so that the front of his body nestled firmly into the back of hers.

The obvious strength of the body behind hers made her shiver with desire, and her hands covered those that were wrapped around her middle. "You have. And it's pretty impressive, because I give a good chase."

He swirled her around in the water until she was facing him, and he didn't look like he was teasing anymore. "Nobody's ever going to take you from me, Temperance. You're all mine."

Despite herself, her body reacted in some sort of primitive way to his words, filling with a sense of satisfaction. Why was it that, when he said these things, it sounded less caveman, and more Superman? She thought of their understanding from earlier: as long as he truly knew that she was not his property, he could turn her on by speaking of his protective instincts towards her during their intimate moments. "I'm not going anywhere," she whispered.

"Damn straight." He pulled her slick body towards him and rubbed it against his own while he plundered her mouth with his tongue. She moaned at the friction against her most sensitive areas, and grasped his hand to move it to the places she felt she needed it the most. There was a flash of a memory about the first time they were together in the water like this; their heated make-out session in the pool before they ran to her apartment and made love for the first time. God, it was hard to remember that there was actually a time when they hadn't made love yet, and she vividly remembered how everything in her burned for him, despite the coolness of the water. Now, she felt a similar, frustrated ache as the resistance of the water prevented her from rocking against him with the force she would have liked.

"Booth." She gasped as his slightly calloused thumbs stroked against her nipples, sending firebursts of sensation through her.

"Yeah." His lips caressed her throat as the swells of water moved them gently up and down against one another. "What can I do for you, baby?"

"You know what I want." His hands were pulling delightful feelings from her body, and it was causing her to move ever more desperately against him, trying to get her fill of every hard, muscled part of his body she could reach.

"And you know what _I _want." He was enjoying listening to the sounds of her excitement, trying to work her up to a level of feverishness that no one else had ever brought her to. Lifting her to press her center against the underside of his cock, he slowly moved up and down, letting her clitoris take the brunt of the friction he was providing her with. Her head dropped back while the water swirled around her, and she moaned.

"You want me to say it, don't you?" Her voice had a pressured, desperate edge to it.

Oh, she was such a smart girl. "Mmm-hmm," he replied, as he continued his slow, stimulating motion against her sex. He expected her to tell him that she loved him, maybe even, once again, that he was the best she ever had. That would have been incentive enough to fill her just as fully as she was begging for.

But she surprised him. "I'm yours," she said breathlessly, kissing him with a passion reminiscent of that first time in the pool. "All yours."

This struck a chord inside of him that made his body run hot and his control almost snap. "Aw, yeah," he rasped, and his cock jerked against her. He pulled her to him with a force that nearly set them both off balance; once he regained equilibrium, he pressed the wet tip of himself against her entrance and she sighed in anticipation. "Mine." His whisper punctuated the one hard thrust that, for the second time that day, filled her to completion.

Her body adjusted immediately to the welcome invasion, and right now there were no other thoughts in her mind than those of him. She was as much his as she had ever belonged to another person—she didn't regret the words. Letting the ocean help them along, it was she who began the gentle movements, pulling against him with her legs so that he could claim her fully, deeply, and encouraging him to carry her higher.

The sea felt amazing, but it couldn't compare to the wet, silky depths of her. He was taken in by her, completely, in every way. She had told him that she was his. Surely, she had to know that he was hers, as well. Being with her like this wasn't even a choice anymore. It was beyond thought and beyond reason.

"Oh, baby," he sighed, moving inside her as hard as he could without setting them off balance. "I want to stay with you like this forever."

"It'll be like this no matter where we go," she promised him, her voice shaky now as she felt a familiar tightness inside of her threatening to detonate. The combination of the perfect fit of his body and the caresses of the sea was intoxicating. She gave herself over to it.

Feeling and hearing the signals of her impending climax, he said a silent prayer of thanks that she was orgasmic as she was, because he so often found himself unable to hold back from the ecstasy that was making love to Temperance Brennan. And coming without her…well, _that _thought was completely unacceptable. He had been born to make her moan like this at the height of her excitement, and he would never rest until he fulfilled his life's purpose…again, and again, and again.

As if in agreement, her arms and legs and sex squeezed around him tightly, almost constricting the air from his lungs for a second. But, it wasn't long before those squeezes turned into convulsions of pleasure, the hotness of which easily sent him over the edge with her. It felt almost as if they were now creating the waves with their bodies. Crying out uncontrollably, he pushed into her several times even after his orgasm had subsided, to prolong hers. This seemed to incite her to new heights, and she slammed herself down onto him, hard. Her final movement was timed perfectly with one, particularly large swell of water. They both managed one last gasp for breath before he lost his footing and they went underwater.

As they emerged a few seconds later, they were sputtering for breath and laughing in spite of themselves. He reached for her, but before they touched he was taken under again, although she managed to stay upright. When he emerged once more, he glared at her as her laughter became directed at him, but was quickly distracted by a kiss.

"Whoever said sex in the ocean was a good idea?" she asked him playfully, clinging to him so they could both stay balanced.

"Until the wipeout thing, I would say it was a pretty damn good idea."

He had a point. "Well, it might be a good idea for us to go ashore now, before the Coast Guard picks us up or something."

He agreed, and they began to move through the moonlit water towards the shore. Once there, he pulled on his underwear, and draped his shirt over her shoulders, covering her. "Thank you for being here with me," he told her, taking one last look towards the ocean.

Her eyes showed nothing but genuineness. "Thank you for making me want to be with you so much."

One more smile, and they made the journey back to the cottage hand-in-hand. It was one more journey of many they would make together.

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**A/N: You know what reviewers I especially love? All of them! But I'm really, really tickled by the ones who tell me, somewhat embarrassed, that my story has some sort of positive effect on their love lives. For heaven's sake, don't be embarrassed by that! I'm a counselor. Hearing that anything I do improves anybody's life in any way just makes me ridiculously happy. So forget that shame, and embrace your smut-loving ways. I know I have!**


	30. Chapter 30

**A/N: Man, it's tough being a workin' girl. I'm, like, all grown-up and stuff…lol. But I very much miss my days of writing. Don't believe I could ever give it up completely.**

**Getting closer to the end of this story is so very bittersweet. Thanks to everyone who has been taking this journey with me. Your support and encouragement means everything.**

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His son had a look of intense concentration on his face, his brow furrowed and the tip of his tongue sticking out. His partner's hands covered his tiny ones as he sat on her lap. "You want to try one more time with me helping you?" she asked him. He nodded his head vigorously. They repeated the poem that she had taught him again, with her guiding his hands on the laces of his sneakers.

"Build a teepee, come inside, close it tight so we can hide, over the mountain and around we go, here is my arrow, and here is my bow!" She left go of his hands right before the last step, and he pulled the bow tight with a flourish. Parker looked up at her with a million dollar smile.

"We did it again!"

"Yeah, we did!" She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed.

Booth was watching from a distance, a small smile touching his face. When it came time to leave their secret hideaway in the Caribbean, he felt bereft, knowing that nothing at home could be as good as this. Right now, he thought maybe he had been wrong—this tiny living room in Pennsylvania was, right now, one of the sweetest places he'd ever been in his life.

He felt the couch depress beside him, and he reluctantly took his eyes off his two favorite people. "She's lovely, Seeley." Grinning at his mother, he put his arm around her.

"She's phenomenal, Mom."

"I see that. I was a bit worried when you first came...she's not as ebullient as the women you typically prefer. But she's special. And _so _smart."

They watched the pair across the room again for awhile. "…over the mountain and around we go…" Parker, by himself now, maneuvering the laces slowly, deliberately. "And here is my bow." He stared at the outcome for a second. Then…"DADDY! GRANDMA!" he shrieked, leaping off of Temperance's lap and running over to his father with one bare foot. "Look!"

Booth lifted his son and examined the fruits of his efforts: a sloppy bow that was a bit crooked, but that would most definitely hold a shoe on. "You did this all by yourself, buddy?"

"Dr. Brennan taught me a poem and we said it and she helped me but then I said it myself and I did what it said and I tied my shoe myself!"

"That's great, Parker!" his grandmother cheered, and both she and his father fussed over his new skill. "You should run outside and show your Pappy." The little boy skipped out of the room, full of pride.

The adults laughed, and Temperance came over to join Booth and his mother on the other side of the room.

"Rebecca and I have been trying for three months to try to get that child interested in tying his shoes. What kind of magic did you just work?"

She shrugged. "He must just have been ready. Either that, or he was just being reactant because you two were pestering him about it." She winked at him.

"Well I think that it's marvelous," Mrs. Booth proclaimed. She sipped at her lemonade. "Have you spent a lot of time around children, Temperance?"

Brennan laughed at the irony of the question. "No, not at all. But Parker and I kind of have an understanding. We both think that dinosaurs are the 'coolest things ever.'" She made quotes with her fingers.

"He obviously thinks that you hung the moon. You've made quite an impression on the Booths so far. When I talked to Parker on the phone on Saturday, all he could talk about was how he missed the two of you and all the things that you were going to do during his next visit."

Her blush was immediate, and Booth stroked her shoulder, both comfortingly and proudly. He knew it was difficult for her to hear complements like these, especially since they so went against what she believed to be true about herself. But they also pleased her, and he was delighted that his mother had recognized what this woman had come to mean to him and Parker.

A head poked into the room. "Yo, See. It's touch-football time. Come outside so I can kick your ass." Ah, same old Jared. Always trying to one-up him to death. He and his mother looked at each other knowingly, and the group headed out into the yard.

The sight was fairly remarkable to Brennan—the veritable swarm of Booths stretching and trash-talking on the lawn, while others milled around the sidelines and up by the pool. The children were off playing tag in another corner of the yard, and Mr. Booth was grilling hamburgers on the patio. It was a family, alright. She felt a little overwhelmed.

Jared was dividing the players between himself and Seeley. "You're on the winning team, you're on the losing team. You're on the winning team…" When he was finished, he shouted out, "We need one more person for the winning team!"

"I'll play," offered Brennan, walking over to the skeptical, mostly male group.

Some relative on Booth's team (Frank? Fred? She had met far too many people today) cried foul. "No fair…we don't want to have to worry about hurting the lady."

"Then don't worry about it," she retorted, smiling at him. Jared grinned.

"Relax, Fred. We promise not to make too much fun of you when she knocks you on your ass." Jared put his arm around Brennan, and she smiled, pleased at his support.

Booth glared at his brother. "Uncle Fred's not gonna be the only one on his ass in a minute."

Brennan laughed. "Are we going to talk all day, or are we going to play?"

And play they did, and hard. Booth alternated between getting angry at his teammates for not preventing his partner from making plays ("I just couldn't tackle her," Fred justified pleadingly. "I would have crushed her with my massive girth"), and getting angry when they _did _prevent her from doing this ("You didn't need to grab her _there")_, until his frustrated teammates told him that he needed to make up his mind about whether he wanted to win. They developed quite the crowd of interested observers. Finally, the score 14 to 17 in favor of Jared's team, Booth came barreling in for the winning goal.

"Outta my way, Bones," he yelled through gritted teeth, as she circled around him.

"Out of _mine," _she insisted, leaping and grabbing his ankle, tripping him. He tumbled to the ground, the ball in his hand just inches from the goal line. Her team leapt and cheered—they had won. As she stood, brushing the grass off of her, Jared and her other teammates came over to pat her on the back.

"Oh, it is _so _going down later," Booth declared, standing and nursing his wounded pride with a sip of beer.

"Promises, promises," she winked, earning hoots from those within earshot.

Luckily for Booth, the game was mostly forgotten (at least momentarily) by the time they all settled down at the large picnic table to eat. The meal went by without incident; Booth looked nervously at his partner as his father asked the group to bow their heads in prayer, but she lowered her head respectfully and made no comment. Apparently, she had wisely foregone her usual tendency to argue just for the sake of discourse, in order to make her time with the Booths go as smoothly as possible.

Afterwards, there were more games and embarrassing stories told. Brennan wondered how Booth had managed to stay so cocky when there were so many cousins and other relatives intent on humiliating him. Nonetheless, he seemed to take it all it stride. The fact was that little could get him down with his partner and his son beside him. No matter what had happened in his past, he was now convinced that he was the luckiest man in the room. He continued to believe this, with effort, even when his father admiringly compared Temperance to his brother Jared, both of them being so very successful at everything they did. It was a bit of a bone of contention in his family. Booth had always done well at most everything in his life, but Jared was the prodigal son. This disparity grew a bit when Booth had a child out of wedlock, and when he left the military to work with the F.B.I. And then there was the whole gambling thing...He got the feeling that his father believed that while Seeley Booth was a good man, he never quite finished what he started, and so he was not quite as deserving as his brother of good fortune.

Eventually in the evening, the family members began to filter back to their own homes, most of which were close by. Booth's group was the only one who lived far enough away to require room and board for the night, so he had the distinct pleasure of being on the receiving end of the entire peanut gallery on the way out. "She's great. Don't you screw this one up," one of his aunts whispered into his ear during their goodbye hug. As if _he_ were the one in control of what happened in this relationship…hadn't his family learned anythingwhile watching Temperance play football with him?

Once the house was empty, everybody was exhausted. Booth carried his sleepy son up to the guest room that was reserved distinctly for grandchildren. "But I'm not ready to go to bed," Parker insisted, his eyes barely open.

"You'll be ready enough in the morning when I try to wake you up to leave."

"But I want Grandma and Pappy and Dr. Brennan to help tuck me in."

"You'll see them bright and early, buddy. They aren't going anywhere."

"Promise?"

"Without a doubt."

He left the room just in time to see his mother and his partner enter his own childhood bedroom.

"Seeley, I'm putting Temperance in your room tonight. You can sleep on the couch."

His mouth fell open. "She's here one day, and she gets my _room?_"

"Of course. She'll be much more comfortable in here," his mother replied mildly. She turned to Brennan. "Don't think we are one of those uptight, stuffy Catholic families who refuse to acknowledge the realities of modern relationships." She gestured to the twin-sized bed. "There simply isn't enough room for two people in here."

Booth cupped his hand over Brennan's ear and whispered loudly, "They never let me get a bigger bed, just so they could tell any of my potential girlfriends that there wasn't enough room."

"Seeley," his mother said indignantly, while Temperance laughed. "You have a lovely night, dear. Let us know if you need anything." She took her son by his hand. "Say your goodnights, son. We'll make sure that Temperance is well taken-care of."

Booth gave his partner a chaste kiss on forehead before allowing himself to be drug away. "I'm pretty sure that's _my _job." He grinned and winked at her on the way out the door.

She chuckled amusedly. Well, there went his ideas of living out his boyhood fantasies tonight. She figured that he would be passed out as soon as his head hit the pillow, anyway.

As she readied herself for sleep, she gazed interestedly around the room. It had obviously transformed since the time it was exclusively occupied by Booth, and now definitely had more of a guest-room feel. However, the walls were still covered with pictures of him in varying stages of development. His Little League picture, with him poised to swing with a gap-toothed smile. Another at his high school graduation, mortarboard in place and an ecstatic expression on his face. Another as a toddler, looking remarkably like Parker with darker hair, holding tightly to a golden retriever more than twice his size. She grinned. It didn't surprise her that her partner had been a beautiful, animated child, but it still was amusing to see it captured so vividly in photographs.

There were also pictures of the entire family, crowded closely together so they could all fit in the frame. She recognized most of the people from the picnic today. She mused for awhile about what it must have been like to grow up in the midst of this chaotic-yet-close-knit group, sharing and competing and fighting and loving, knowing that for better or for worse, these were the people you were stuck with for the rest of your life. A pang of envy came over her, and she quickly shook it off and climbed into bed, turning off the lamp beside her.

Lying in bed, she drifted off while contemplating her journey, and the strange path that took her from a life of foster homes, to the highlands of Nicaragua and other far-off locales, to the city of D.C. and now, into the childhood bed of her partner and lover. Incredible. There was no awareness of her descent into sleep, but soon consciousness left her and she was set afloat in a world of peaceful dreams. A few hours later, it was with reluctance that she was pulled from this world with a gentle kiss.

"Hey," she said in a sleepy, whispered voice. "Didn't you hear your mother? You're supposed to be on the couch, mister."

"Did you really think I could go all night without kissing you?" He was kneeling beside the bed, and he pressed his lips to her cheek once more.

"Something tells me kisses just aren't going to be enough for you, hot shot." More awake now, she slid over on the small bed, making room for him.

"You stripped me of my manhood on the football field today. You should probably make it up to me," he told her quietly, climbing under the covers. The bed groaned a bit under his weight, and they laid side-by-side, facing one another.

"I remain unaffected by your guilt-trip." She was smiling.

"But will you be unaffected by this?" His lips met hers and his tongue probed her deeply, his arm around her waist pulling her closer to his warm body. She returned his kiss with enthusiasm, and it soon became clear that they were being equally affected, despite Booth's teasing. He groaned softly as he caressed her silky skin and pliant body. "When I was a teenager, I used to have this dream that I'd come home from school or something and up to my room, and there would just be this sexy girl lying in my bed, waiting for me, wanting to show me what I had been missing."

She laughed lightly between kisses. "I'm pretty sure that's _every _teenage boy's fantasy, Booth."

"Maybe. But now it's _mine _that's coming to life." His touches and kisses growing more passionate, he made a move to roll on top of her, and the bed creaked loudly.

"Booth! The bed's too loud…it's going to wake up your parents." Her body betraying her words, her hands found their way up under his t-shirt, stroking his chest.

He sighed with frustration, his fingers kneading her ass restlessly and pulling her towards him. "I had almost forgotten how you couldn't get away with anything on this bed. Damn." His arousal was completely transparent through the thin material of his boxers, and she couldn't help but giggle in delight. "Oh, you think it's _funny _how I want you so bad I'm going to explode?" In punishment, he lightly pinched her nipples through her top, and her chuckle turned to a breathy moan as she arched towards him, trying hard not to antagonize the bedsprings.

"You poor thing," she sighed, reaching for his hardness. This little petting session was completely masochistic, knowing full well that engaging in the kind of heated sex they desired would surely bring attention that was certainly _not _desired. Booth had never felt like a teenager again so much as he did right now…he had forgotten how frustrating it could be. His lover squeezed him in lust and sympathy.

She let go of him. "We seem to have a little problem on our hands," she said reasonably.

"A little more than little, baby."

"Well…" she paused, feeling suddenly, deliciously naughty. "Let me see if I can't help you with that." She pushed the covers down and sat up, urging him to do the same as well. Carefully, she maneuvered herself off of the bed and onto the floor, on her knees. Eyes widening in anticipation and lust and he realized her intention, he swung his legs around so that she was firmly nestled between his knees. Now, the movement on the bed would be kept to a minimum. "Did your fantasy girl ever do this to you in your bed?" she asked coyly. Her hand snaked into the fly of his boxers and brushed against the velvety hardness she felt there, before pulling it out. A strangled sound left his lips, and she shushed him. "You've got to be quiet while I show you everything you've been missing." She winked at him sweetly before rubbing the head of his cock gently around the fullness of her lips, teasing herself with his taste before flicking her tongue out and sampling the evidence of his desire for her. Wrapping her lips around the tip of him, she applied a gentle suction and was delighted to feel the increase in the hardness and thickness of him in her mouth. God, she enjoyed this.

His knuckles were white as he grasped the sheets behind him with the effort of keeping silent under her ministrations. Yes, here was his dream girl, his sex goddess in the flesh, making him feel as excited as if it were his first time discovering just how good another person could make him feel. And no one else ever _had _made him feel this way, which made the thrill of making love to her right here even more unbearable. "You are _so _much better than a fantasy, baby," he groaned softly, one hand moving up to tangle in her silky hair while she teased him.

It was just what she was hoping to be. Her lips clasped more tightly around him as she moved, tugging his sensitive skin up and down while her busy tongue worked on his tip. She added her hand to this stimulation, gently stroking all the parts of him that she couldn't reach with her mouth from his angle. The anticipatory throbbing of his member in her mouth created sympathetic pulses of her own sex, and she began to make the little, excited noises against him that more typically signaled to him her own climax.

If she would have continued for another minute, he would have exploded for sure, but with a frustrated sound she released him from her mouth, grabbed the hand that was propping him up in a sitting position on the bed, and yanked him to the floor.

Thank God the floor wasn't as creaky as the bed. He laid prone, allowing her to lead him, teach him, although he couldn't resist reaching up to lift off the top that covered her from his view. Much better; he relaxed onto the floor again as she straddled him. His cock already wet from her earlier attentions, she slid onto him effortlessly, her head dropping back. He rather enjoyed this view—the woman he loved riding him, her firm breasts displayed proudly for his eyes, her face the picture of bliss. "Mmm…so good," she sighed softly, and he agreed wholeheartedly. Grasping her hips, he began to pull her back and forth against him gently, and then with increasingly force.

"Everybody thinks you're amazing," he whispered to her, feeling everything in him tensing pleasurably.

"Yeah?" she asked, gasping a bit. She leaned forward and caught her hands on the bed, changing the angle and allowing her to feverishly rub her clit against him.

"Yeah." His voice was strained. He reached one hand up to roll her nipple between his fingers, and she jerked. "You belong here in my world."

Her eyes were squeezed shut for a moment, and he wasn't entirely sure that she heard him. But she proved that idea wrong. "_Our _world." She opened her eyes and they locked with his, and she rode him even harder, causing him to teeter dangerously on the edge. His other hand reach down to where they were joined and he began to gently stroke and pinch her clit with the tips of his fingers, drawing her into this vortex along with him.

She let out a shuddering sigh as her body quaked. "God I love you baby," he groaned as quietly as he could manage. The inherent eroticism of watching his sexy lover come on top of him was enough to tip him over the edge. She drained him of any of the energy he had leftover from the exhausting day. Once her orgasm ran its course, she tipped over and kissed him down from his own.

"I've waited more than 36 years to christen this room," he told her raggedly, chest still heaving.

"Never say I never helped you with anything," she laughed breathlessly, snuggling against his body one more time before separating them. A little reluctantly, she rose and helped him up, his back protesting a little bit. They put back on and readjusted their sleep clothes.

"You should probably go back down to the couch," she whispered, crawling back in bed.

"I will," he said, following her. "I just want to lay with you for a little while." She cuddled up to him (not that there was much choice on the small bed). "I know that this is no island paradise, Temperance. So…thank you for being here with me, nonetheless." He kissed the top of her head as he rested his eyes, just for a second.

"Thank you for showing me all these amazing things, Booth…" Her murmuring voice fell off. They were the last words spoken before both lovers fell asleep, not to be awakened until sunlight again streamed through the curtains…

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He had truly meant to head back down to the couch, so it was to his great surprise that he woke up to the loud squeaking of a small body jumping up and down onto his childhood bed. "Wake up wake up wake up…"

Brennan followed him into wakefulness a short second later, her eyes flying open at the unexpected intrusion. She chuckled when she saw the source of this chaos.

"We've been waiting for you to get up for an _hour. _Grandma and Pappy said that you must have gotten _really _tired from playing football yesterday. But there's muffins and juice and I just couldn't wait anymore."

"You know what I think you couldn't wait anymore for? Being _tickled to death." _Booth began to tickle his son relentlessly. Delighted by the child's giggles, Brennan joined in until Parker collapsed on the bed, squealing. They stopped when he began to beg for mercy. "Alright, Park. Let Dad and Dr. Brennan get ready for a few minutes then we can stuff ourselves with muffins."

The boy tumbled off the bed. "Alright. But you better hurry!" He observed them once more. "Your bed is too small, Daddy." He then ran out the door.

The two adults looked at each other sheepishly. "_Busted," _Booth proclaimed.

"How embarrassing," she moaned, falling back on the bed.

"Nah, it's okay. My parents know that I have trouble sleeping places other than my own bed. It shouldn't be a surprise that I abandoned the couch."

"Yeah. I'm sure they'll buy that one."

He winked at her. "Hey, my parents were young and in love once."

"We're they also sex maniacs?"

Booth looked horrified. "Never talk about 'sex maniacs' in the context of my parents ever again."

"Many couples actually experience an increase in sexual satisfaction and intimacy as they age, Booth. It is actually quite likely that your parents…"

He covered his ears. "La la la la la…" He got up out of bed and headed for the bathroom. She laughed at his selective denial of the truth. Better to deny this than the truth about their feelings for each other…

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After breakfast, the three had to pack up and get back to their lives. Mrs. Booth surprised Temperance with a long hug.

"You're good for him," she whispered into her ear.

Brennan was touched. "I hope so," she said, returning the hug. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Booth shaking his father's hand goodbye, a little stiffly. She wasn't an expert on these things, but it definitely appeared that there was a strange dynamic between the two men. They left with promises to come back to visit soon.

During the trip home, the adults were mostly quiet, while Parker entertained them with songs and stories. There was a few seconds of silence. Then, out of the blue: "Did you have fun at my Grandma and Pappy's, Dr. Brennan?"

Her eyes widened a little bit. "Sure, Parker. I had a great time. Your Grandma and Pappy are really nice people."

"Did you mean it when you said you'd come back?"

Interesting. Where was _this _coming from? Booth looked at her a little worriedly. "I'd like very much to visit again."

The child was silent again for another moment. Then: "Can you and Daddy and I have breakfast again the next time I visit Daddy's house?"

Finally, Booth intervened. "Enough with the third degree, buddy. Dr. Brennan will spend time with us again when she can."

Brennan's brow furrowed…then softened. "It's okay, Booth," she said softly. "He has a right to ask about what's coming next." She turned in her seat to face the child.

"Actually, Parker, it'll be really easy for us to have breakfast the next time you visit. And the time after that, and the time after that. Because your Daddy and I are going to be living together."

Two sets of jaws dropped. "Really?" This word was said by both Booths, in unison.

She nodded. "Really." She cast a shy sideways smile at Booth, and the grin he gave her back could have lit up all of D.C.

Parker was clapping. "We'll have so much fun! And it will work a lot better because Daddy has a bigger bed." The child continued to verbalize his plans for the three of them into the future. Booth was only half-listening. He put his hand on Temperance's thigh.

"I love you," he mouthed to her. She smiled, lifted his hand to her mouth, and kissed it. She remembered that insight that had come to her at the marina, just a few days ago.

Happiness should not be kept waiting. The future should not be postponed. And love shouldn't be something to be feared. And now that she had found all three, there was no excuse to hold onto pain and fear from the past. She didn't know what the future held for her and the new people in her life, but this was just an ambiguity that she was going to have to tolerate. She was going to jump into this new world that they had created headfirst.

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**A/N: There shall be an epilogue. And that shall be the end.**

**Until the sequel….:-)**


	31. Epilogue

Temperance Brennan sat cross-legged on her bed, gazing around her room at no one object in particular. She didn't typically become attached to places, but there were some good memories here. It was easy to remember moving in here several years ago, getting ready to begin her new job as lead forensic anthropologist at the Jeffersonian. She had been so excited and proud at the accomplishment, and had barely been able to sleep the night before her first day. Then, after that, there had been the late nights she had spent here with Angela, eating ice cream and talking about Ange's latest exploits and Brennan's dismal love life. And then, of course, there was Booth. She had first made love with him in this room. And their second and third and fourth times had been here, as well. Yes. Good memories.

She was so involved in reminiscing that she hadn't heard the shower turn off in the other room, so she was a little surprised by Booth's entrance. He grinned at her, a little curiously.

"You just hangin' out in here, hot stuff?"

She smiled lightly and shrugged, watching him as he dropped his towel and began to dress. "I guess so." Her eyes again took a journey around the room. "Just remembering all the things that I associate with this place."

He laughed. "Visits from serial killers? Sleepless nights thinking about cases? Me getting blown up?"

Hmm, she had sort of forgotten about those things for a moment. "Not exactly. I guess I'm selectively choosing what to remember."

Looking a little concerned, he sat down next to her on the bed, half-dressed. "You're not having second thoughts about what we talked about, are you?"

After they returned home from their holiday and discussed the practical aspects of living together, they had decided they would find a new place altogether, rather than choosing one of their current apartments. Booth had been especially enthusiastic about starting fresh, in a new place. They were going to start looking today.

"No, not at all." She squeezed his hand reassuringly, but he detected a note of hesitation in her tone.

He looked at her seriously. "I want this to be a good experience for you. I know it's not something that you planned for. But if you tell me what you want, what you need to make this work for you—I'll make it happen. Just say the word. Just…"

"Just talk to you," she finished for him. Yes, she was familiar with the concept now. Very.

"Please." His smile melted her, easily. He was the only person who ever tempted her to say everything he wanted to hear. He was also the only person who she knew she could never lie to.

"You know I very much want to be with you, Booth." He nodded. "And, to live with you. There are no doubts in my mind about that. I just hope that…" She thought for a moment before proceeding. "I hope I can be both who I am and what you need me to be." Her eyes were almost shy as they met his. "In the interest of full disclosure—I'm never going to be the one who wants the white dress and the big wedding. I'll never be the one who dreams of having two point five kids and a white picket fence. And I'm never going to fit in at a country club function." She sighed. "But…equally true is that I love you and Parker, and I want to be with you. I'm just…"

This time he finished _her _words. "You're just not like all the other girls, are you Bones?"

A laugh left her. "I suppose you could say that." Several thousand times, she thought. "I know I'm really not telling you anything you don't already know. But somehow, I keep worrying that…it's going to be a problem. The person who I _am _can be a problem sometimes."

They sat quietly for awhile, their fingers tangling with one another, communicating with their touches. "Well, Bones," he finally said, looking at her earnestly, "I'm not entirely sure what to tell you there." Well, at least he was being honest, too." "Maybe I should tell you that I'll never want to see you walk down that aisle towards me in that beautiful white dress. Maybe I should tell you that I'll never want to create a new life with you." He took a deep breath. "But I'm not going to tell you those things, because I can't promise I won't want that. I can't promise that I don't already do. _But…_I can promise you that I'll always respect what _you _want, because that's one of the most important things in my world—making you happy, and giving you what you want. It's kind of what I already signed up for." He winked at her.

God, she was a lucky, lucky woman. There was no denying it. Her heart swelled from everything he was to her, and everything they were to each other. "You know what I want right now?" she asked.

"What, love?"

She smiled a small smile. "I want you to kiss me."

His heart began to pound at this, and at first he couldn't identify exactly why. By now, they had shared thousands…tens, hundreds of thousands?...of kisses. But something about the way she asked…Oh. Now he got it. It was _that _question. The one she asked on their first night together, that set everything else in motion. The very first request she had ever had the courage to make of his heart. He couldn't deny her then, and her certainly couldn't now.

His fingers touched her face, drew her closer. Right before their lips met, he spoke to her. "You are my brilliant star," he said, meaningfully. "What you are will _always _be enough. Because you are everything. Never forget that." His eyes burned into hers one last time, to make sure she understood. And she did. It didn't occur to her to question him. He always told her the truth. Sensing her acceptance, he closed the distance between their lips, and hummed in pleasure at the warmth he found there.

Sighing at the sensation, she relaxed into his muscular, clean-smelling body, feeling both comforted and aroused by the now-familiar taste of him. His mouth against hers felt like the sweetest silken touch. "How did you get me so hooked on you?" she murmured on his lips.

"All I had to do was everything you told me to." He smiled against her. "And then let you do everything you wanted to do to me."

Speaking of things that she wanted to do to him…he should have known what he was getting into when he sat next to her without his shirt on. And told her the most beautiful things…since when did she like to hear them? Since she began to believe them, she supposed. Her hand flexed against his chest, and the feel of his skin reminded her of sex and love and all the delicious things that she had experienced in the past several months with him by her side. She could suddenly see him everywhere. He was beside her on the beach, holding her in the rain, kissing her next to a shimmering waterfall…and every place in between. He was simply a part of her life now. And she was a part of his.

"You know what makes me happy?" she asked, with great seriousness. "That soon, I'll be able to kiss you—whenever I want."

"You already can kiss me whenever you want."

"But now there won't be anywhere for you to escape to." She grinned devilishly, and used her palm against his chest to push him down to the bed.

"Oh God no," he moaned, as she straddled him laughing, crouching to kiss him. He weakly feigned a struggle before submitting to her eager lips and fingers. "Fine, fine! Okay! I'll live with you. Just stop _bugging _me about it."

His joke was quickly swallowed by her as she worked to undo the progress he had made in dressing himself. She tasted her way up his chest until she reached his mouth. The friction of her clothed body against his made him shiver a bit. He ran his hands across her back, trying to manipulate the clasp of her bra open from his position over her shirt, but he couldn't find it. "I love you like this," he murmured. "When you are wanting me." She responded by sitting up and lifting her shirt over her head. Well _there _was the reason he couldn't get at her bra. She wasn't wearing one. He growled and used the strength of his arms to grab her and flip her down onto the bed, on her belly, delighting in her surprised gasp.

"Are you going to do this to me every day when we live together?" she asked him, half-smiling and half-serious.

"Twice." He began to stroke her bare back, trailing his fingers up and down her spine and sending thrills through her when they pushed up the back of her neck and into her hair. She relaxed under his gentle touch, until he slipped his hands to the sides of her breasts and made her squirm. She lifted her chest a bit, trying to give him better access, but for now he kept his touch more sensual than erotic. Brushing her hair aside, he pressed his mouth against her neck, shoulders, and then down the long column of her back until he reached the waistband of her pants.

"You say you love me, when I'm wanting you?" she asked breathily. "Then you must _really _be loving me right now." She arched her bottom into the air, encouraging him to reach underneath her to undo her pants. This time he complied with her wishes, needing very much to feel all of her bare skin against his.

Her clothes removed, he eased down on top of her, the front of his body sliding across the silky skin of her back, the evidence of his wanting of her rubbing firmly against her ass while she pressed upwards eagerly, vivified by his attentions. "Just in the interest of full disclosure, Temperance," he whispered into her ear, "our life together won't always be easy. We're both complicated people. But it _will _always be good. And always be worth it."

"I know," she moaned softly, tilting her hips, trying to get more of him against the place she needed him the most right now. She was so warm and responsive, and again he wondered at this change. The woman who so often displayed to the world a carapace of coolness and reserve was, underneath, was the most passionate person he had ever met. In more ways than one. He would have been happy to take her like this, but he wanted badly to see her, look into her eyes, so he gently moved off of her and rolled her over. Her body was irresistible to him, so he took a moment to kiss her all over, moving downwards to inhale the sweet scent of her sex. The tip of his tongue traced her most intimate areas, around her inner lips and up to manipulate her clit from side to side, never quite giving her the direct contact that she was breathlessly begging for. He kept up his teasing until he heard his name repeated again and again, and her words of love.

"What do you want, baby?" he asked her, by now knowing the answer.

"You," she cried out. "Only you." He recognized the truth in her words, and moved up her body to capture her eyes, then her lips, with his own.

"I am so glad that we began this," he said, his words becoming strained as the length of him slipped inside her, the feeling familiar and brand new all at the same time. He shuddered slightly, both at the pleasure he was now experiencing, and in anticipation of all the things to come.

She moved with him, with abandon, giving herself over to what they were together. Yes, it was time to move on, move forward, knowing that whatever came next would be just as exciting and scary and wonderful as the past several months had been.

All he had wanted was a moment of honesty from her. All she had wanted was to be able to give him this. And once she did…that moment had changed their lives. And now, they would continue to change, together.

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**A/N: And so…one chapter ends. The story was my first baby…and now my baby's growing up. What a feeling.**

**One more time: Thank you to those who have read this story, and special thanks to those who took the time out of their busy lives to communicate with me in support of this effort. I hope that I have personally responded to all of you—if I have not, it was an oversight, and know that every comment and thought was treasured. I so enjoyed the discourse with you all, and the friends I've made with other readers and writers.**

**Please do be on the lookout for the sequel to this story, coming soon. Let's take another ride together, shall we? Because the first was so much fun…**


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